Somewhere Only We Know
by Lucky Th13rteen
Summary: FORMERLY "TRAPPED IN TIME." True love is a magic beyond spell books and ingredients, something that can change the course of the world. Love does not know the limits of time or space. Love is not only the most powerful form of magic, but the greatest form of power.
1. Accusations Lead to Actions

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any characters from the Harry Potter world. Much love and thanks to JK Rowling for her creation of such a beautiful and magical world.**

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**Elongated Summary: **_**"Trapped In Time" **_

Pairing: Draco Malfoy / Other Character

Rating: M for Mature for smutty, sexy lemons, mild language, and adult themes

Setting / Time Frame: Post-Hogwarts, inclusive of all _Deathly Hallows _events; AU for time traveling purposes

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Overall Summary:

Draco Malfoy has worked to change his reputation for many years. After the war, he fought to not be labeled as a Death Eater and thrown in Azkaban. After the death of his mother, he struggled to lose the playboy persona that flagged his period of grief. And now, Draco is lost between the man he wants to be for Isla Brandt, the one committed relationship that has lasted for longer than a week, and the man his selfish actions have forced him to become.

Battling to save Isla from her own misdeeds, Draco must also keep hidden the secrets and lies that will destroy their life together. But the one item that can save Isla from persecution is the only thing keeping her happiness alive.

Draco Malfoy must find the balance between right and wrong before it is too late, before he loses Isla to the man he has most loathed his entire life: himself.

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**Chapter One – Accusations Lead to Actions**

The wind was fierce, howling at the hooded figure's back as they hurried down the deserted country lane. The moon hung big and bright over the English countryside in the clear night sky, lighting the path of travelers near and far. A small noise like the cracking of a twig was heard and the hooded figure abruptly stopped, whipping out a stick of wood as their stance turned defensive. A second hooded figure, slight and smaller, now stood just yards away, a wand trained at the chest of their prey. One leered suggestively while the other sighed in frustration; it was going to be another long night of defense and protection.

In a flash of blue, the two figures began to duel, cries of pain and triumph echoing as the hooded persons fought for their lives. The moon glimmered off a glimpse of golden hair as the hood was thrown from the mysterious attacker's head. Both wizards stopped their magical fight, the first doubling over to catch his breath as the second hurriedly replaced her hood.

"I could have killed you, you know."

"I know," came the soft reply from the female attacker. "I didn't know you were traveling these paths tonight."

The man stood to his full height, his tall, lean frame casting a thin shadow down the dirty cobbled path. His broad shoulders squared as he faced the female across from him, a look of disappointment evident underneath his hood. She straightened her stance as well, stowing her wand in the folds of her robe as she took a small step towards the man.

"What are you doing here anyways? Shouldn't you be at the Ministry, where I _told _you to be, instead of gallivanting around a dangerous countryside in precarious times like these?" The impatience was not hidden from his voice but a trace of worry laced his tone as well.

"I'm a bloody Unspeakable too! I have my own work to do and you have no business telling me where I should be when I am on assignment!" She turned on the spot and huffed off in the opposite direction, grumbling when she heard footsteps just behind her own.

He quietly fell into step with her and they walked for several minutes, slightly uncomfortable due to the near death attack, before either said a word. Her thoughts had returned to completing her current mission and she startled when he coughed, halting their progress as she stopped.

"What is it, Draco! Just spit it out. I don't want to deal with your patronizing gestures and ... noises and… and thoughts! I have work to do and I cannot babysit you until you realize you have work to do as well!"

His gentle laugh rolled across the quiet landscape, infuriating her more because of his apparent lack of ability to pick up on her emotions. "I am not trying to patronize you, love. I am merely looking out for the safety and well-being of a fellow Unspeakable, fellow Hogwarts alumni, and the current love of my life and bane of my existence." A long, thin hand reached up from behind his back to trace her jaw. "If I had anything important to do tonight I would not still be here. I know you can handle yourself but when I know you are out, alone, on a cold night like this, I can't help but want to follow along."

A strong wind continued to whip at the black folds of their robes, howling as it pulled through the branches and leaves of the old trees nearby. In a village just over the hills a church bell tower chimed midnight, signaling the entrance of another day. Birds fluttered from a nearby tree in to the night and the small woman standing on the lonely cobbled path next to the tall, slight man sighed in longing for the freedom of flight.

"Draco. We are both Unspeakables. We are both bound to our oaths as Unspeakables to _not_ speak about our work." She looked at him as if he should know these words by now. "As co-workers first, we only know the basics of each other's careers: I work in the Time Chamber and you, well I still don't know which Chamber you work in. Where do you work? What do you do, Draco?" Her arms crossed as the confidence in her voice piqued and she peered at him questioningly.

"What I do is not important right now. What is important is you finishing your assignment so we can both be at home, sitting by the fireplace, snuggled up talking about what I want to do to you naked as you tell me how handsome and perfect I am." His impish grin made her smile, his arms snaking past her hips to her ass to pull her closer. "Now go finish your job so you can come home to me."

The woman knew he was right but could not get past a tugging feeling that his presence here tonight meant more to her unfinished work than she would care to admit. Unspeakables did not run into each other casually while on rendezvous. Unspeakables did not duel in deserted countrysides in the middle of the night while a dark and powerful wizard was loose from Azkaban. Unspeakables stayed hidden and erased all memory of their presence.

She leaned up and lightly kissed Draco's cheek, relishing in the small warmth his touch provided. "I'll see you when I see you." The witch said, smiling sweetly as she closed her eyes and leaned into him. Draco's eyes closed reflexively and he wrapped his body more around her smaller frame. He felt her lips kiss him again on his cheek and he curved further around her shape. When his arms kept rounding and he lost his balance, Draco opened his eyes to find the woman gone.

She had Disapparated from underneath his nose.

A mile away the witch flew silently through the night sky, hurrying to get back to the place she left Draco to watch his actions after her disappearance. She cleared the trees and could see his glowing hair in the moonlight as he took out his wand and murmured a spell. A silver mist escaped the tip of his wand and it slowly took the form of a small dragon. As the Patronus stood still in front of him, Draco spoke softly into the charm transferring a message to an anonymous recipient. She watched as he straightened, the Patronus going into the night until it was a silver dot whirring to a faraway destination. Closer by, Draco returned his wand to its holster and the ghost of an irritated smile flickered across his face as he pulled his hood back over his face.

The witch continued to fly silently in the air above, watching the wizard as he set out on an easy stroll down the way he had initially been going. She wondered what his incentive to be in this place tonight was, if he had truly been on an errand or following her. This isolated valley and countryside was not an area that any other division of Unspeakables were investigating, she was sure of it. No, Draco's presence in this spot tonight held a significance she was not certain of yet.

She looked as he strolled down, a mile away from her now, and swiftly closed the distance between them as she continued watching him. He stopped at a bend in the road, walking towards a large shady tree covering the corner piece of land. A large dark figure materialized next to the tree as Draco approached steadily.

"Zabini," she heard Draco say. The men shook hands and started murmuring rapidly.

"What happened, Malfoy?" Blaise asked.

"She was here. Not a mile north. Apparated almost to the exact spot." Draco sounded pained, as if admitting those words made some awful truth real. "She stayed only minutes after she saw me and we conversed. I don't know where she was going or if she Disapparated there upon leaving me."

Blaise nodded his head in understanding. He stood in thought with his hands held behind his back, appraising Draco with a critical eye. "Confirmation is the most we hoped to attain here tonight. Now we can begin our plans for the next step."

Draco's head dropped and he nodded in understanding. As he spoke he lifted his gaze. "As promised, Isla will not be tried or imprisoned or blamed for any results. She will walk away from this as if she were you or I."

Blaise too nodded in agreement. "Yes, as discussed it will appear as if Isla had no involvement in this situation. As long as she is the player we think she is."

Draco huffed in satisfaction and Disapparated from under the tree's shadow. Blaise returned his cloak and Disapparated as well.

Isla gently fell the remaining feet to the ground, processing this new information. Her instincts had not been wrong, but why would her lover turn against her? Draco had been loyal to her since she had asserted her presence after he tried to start dating other witches when she refused to sleep with him in the beginning of their courtship. He could be misguided but Draco always had good intentions and Isla knew he would not do something if he thought it would harm her.

His short business meeting left her wondering many things but her confidence in Draco rebuffed those thoughts. Quickly Isla readied herself to Disapparate; she still had a job to finish. She smiled slightly as she breathed deeply, reciting her destination in her head as the familiar tug pulled her through time and space as she Disapparated.

**.**

The depth and darkness of the Department of Mysteries always comforted Draco. It reminded him of the long, lazy days spent beneath the lake in the Slytherin common room while he was at Hogwarts. The black marble walls radiated cold and on strong winter mornings, one's breath could be seen in front of them as if a Dementor were strolling beside them. His reflection glinted off the shiny marble as he passed each blue flamed candle, his walking pace increasing as the Entrance door at the end of the hallway appeared. Despite his past failures, Draco had a knack for ending up in the right place and he felt assured that his position as an Unspeakable was no coincidence.

He pulled open the heavy door, retching himself from the hallway into the Entrance Room. His mercury eyes shut immediately, the room spinning around him in an attempt to confuse the less knowledgeable witch or wizard. With the room safely still Draco strode purposefully towards the third door on his left, reaching for an invisible door knob in the center of the black marble. The door quickly shut behind him as he walked into the Hall of Prophecy. Standing still, his eyes scanned down rows 1 through 53 on his left, rows 54 and beyond on his right. The room looked the same every day when he walked in but he was always amazed to see the hundreds of thousands of prophecies lining the shelves, lighting the room with their ethereal glow.

Draco began his journey again, walking briskly down the center aisle to the very depths of this Department in the Mysteries. A vague door could be seen in the gray stone walls, its jagged outline appearing as if a ghostly child was drawing them with a crayon. He pressed his hand to the middle of the rough doorway and pushed forward through the stone, his hand warming as the magic inside the rock accepted him. His body was pulled forward with the flow of the magic, going through the stone wall and ending in a small, rectangular chamber with multiple desks strewn about.

Only current Unspeakables in the Hall of Prophecy knew about this office space, a hidden refuge in the perilous Department of Mysteries. Draco approached the desk in the far corner and sat down in a massive black leather chair. His desk sat before him and he knew somewhere underneath the mail stacked neatly on the right side was a folder containing new details and plans for his current assignment.

An assignment which was turning out to be more troublesome by the day. If their suspicions are correct, he stood the possibility of losing Isla. The idea spread a very uncomfortable feeling of uncertainty about his body and Draco was sure this new emotion was the offspring of his first long term relationship with one witch.

He began flipping absently through pieces of parchment until his thoughts could no longer evade his actions.

Draco jumped out of his chair to pace the stone floor in front of his desk, his cool, pale hands grasped firmly behind his back. He dared not look into the folder yet, his emotions were still running high concerning Isla and he did not need to overreact to such a sensitive situation. The lanterns hanging off the walls cast shadows across the room and as Draco walked through them, his thoughts continued to mull over the new developments. Isla would be gone for the week on an assignment and she knew she would return to a furious boyfriend after their row yesterday before her departure. Her accusations of cheating had caught him off guard and his hasty reply to questions about his recent whereabouts and nightly trysts had sent Isla in a rage. She slapped him, he shoved her, and before he could blink she was out the door and Disapparated.

He regretted his temper but Isla had no justification in blaming him for his old ways when he had been faithful to her for so long. It had been three years since he had helped her through the Entrance Door on her first day, patronizing her for not knowing the ropes before she started her new job. She accepted his evasive help and sought him out on lunch breaks in the Ministry cafe, chatting him up when walking through the halls of the Ministry. He found her persistent attempts at friendship annoyingly endearing and in turn, he flirted to embarrass her and often made crude remarks concerning her choice of clothing.

One day after a particularly vicious meeting, the sexual tension broke a barrier and they consummated their future relationship. No one questioned their budding romance, but those in disagreement with their decision made their opinions known, Blaise stating on more than one occasion his mistrust of office relationships. Draco often thought it was the stupidity of his youth that had landed him in a committed relationship so young in life.

His feet stopped, pacing momentarily forgotten as thoughts of anger boiled over. He turned to face his desk, fists slamming violently on the dark wood. His right hand swept across the expansive surface, items slamming violently against the walls, smashing against the floors.

No woman infuriated Draco Malfoy like this without personal consequences. He may love her but severe accusations deserved retaliation. If Isla thought he was cheating on her, then he would do exactly as she suggested. Of course, he would have to be liquored up first but this night would bring out the demon in Draco Malfoy that he had caged for many a years.

.

His memories became separated upon his arrival to a dark pub at the mouth of Knockturn Alley. Draco had Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and seeing no social prospects, wandered down Diagon Alley, whistling with his hands in his pockets as he strolled the cobblestone paths. The opening of a pub door perked his senses and he turned to get a better look at the dim light emitting from a shabby entrance. The name _Hog's Breath_ was etched simply next to the doorway underneath a dying lantern.

The lighting was even darker when he entered the rustic tavern, sidling up to the bar to turn and survey the crowd. Small green flames burned atop white candles upon distraught tables, casting eerie glows to the faces of each table's occupants as the witches and wizards huddled close in conversation. Darker nooks and niches indicated private side rooms and tables.

Draco turned back to the bar, grabbing the attention of the barmaid as she passed by.

"Firewhiskey," he stated, nodding his head politely to show his thanks. She smiled in return, a mouth full of yellow and rotting teeth bared between thin, cracked lips.

The glass appeared in front of him, a bottle of the liquor suspended in midair ready to pour its contents into the cup. Draco watched the amber liquid flow from the mouth of the bottle, filling the glass and swirling a bit as the pouring ceased. He emptied the drink in one gulp and motioned for more, "Double," he told the barmaid.

The self-pouring bottle continued to give him doubles for the next rounds, ultimately leading to a light buzz that spun Draco's head when he turned again to see who had walked into the pub. He was effectively sloshed within the evening's time and soon became friendly with the fellow patrons sitting at the bar.

In the blink of an eye Draco was sitting at a table with a younger witch and wizard, chatting on about some Hogwarts story or a memory from the Ministry. He kept forgetting where he knew the pair from but they kept buying his drinks so he didn't mind rubbing elbows with unfamiliar people. The woman was striking; she looked much like a girl from Slytherin whose name he couldn't quite remember. The man was thin, swallow like a younger version of Severus Snape without the long, greasy hair.

They continued to drink. Draco turned around and he was in a private side room, time slipping through his fingers as the alcohol controlled his brain. The woman was in front of him, swaying slightly to an offbeat tune drifting from the main room of the pub. Her long silvery blond hair reminded him of his mother's and drunkenly he combed his fingers through the strands. She took it as a sign of affection and snuggled up closer to his swaying body.

Again, he blinked and he was standing outside, his lips numb coming off those of the blonde haired witch. She smiled up at him coyly underneath thick dark eye lashes, bright blue eyes twinkling under the moon's light. His hand was grabbed and Draco was pulled down the path after her, drunken feet carrying the couple to the brighter streets of Diagon Alley. They rushed into the Leaky Cauldron, hurriedly greeting Tom behind the bar. The blonde grabbed the lapels of Draco's robes, jerking him into the fireplace as she threw Floo powder into the hearth.

His feet hit solid ground, head hitting the fireplace mantel, effectively knocking him to the floor. His head spinning and his senses going in and out of working, Draco looked around lazily. The blonde was in the next room, clinking and clanking indicating she was putting on a pot of tea. Slowly he got to his feet and moved to sit on a sofa.

"Are you alright?" A soft voice asked. "I don't Floo well when I'm drinking but we're both here in one pieces so 'is okay." She giggled, rattling the tea cups on the silver tray she was carrying.

Draco's eyes slowly took in her rapid movements, half her actions disjointed and half-finished as her drunken brain realized its capabilities.

"I'm fine. I'll be bloody fantastic in the morning." He laughed sarcastically, his own joke missed on the witch. "But right now, I can think of a few things had would make me feel a whole lot better."

This time his smirk was understood by her and the blonde put down her cup of tea, relishing in the new found sexual advances from the handsome man across from her. Her chest puffed forward with her breathing and she stood up, walking to stand in front of the sitting wizard. She grabbed his hands, gently pulling him up to his full height and directing him to her bedroom.

Draco pulled her back to him, wrapping his arms and body around her as she tilted her face towards him, slanting her mouth to meet his as they crashed together. The chemistry was palpable and Draco was eager to explore someone who he connected to so quickly. His drunken fingers pawed at her sweater, nimbly unbuttoning the tiny pearls from the deep purple cashmere. Her hot mouth trailed down his neck and stopped at the collarbone, her fingers pulling at his shirt as her lips mauled his uncovered upper body.

As both shirts hit the floor, they began shuffling towards the bedroom doorway, pieces of clothing marking their path as they stumbled and tried to get to the bed. Moon light unveiled and eclipsed the planes of their bodies as they stood naked in front of a floor length window overlooking the dim city lights of London. Draco kissed her once more, his hands holding the base of her neck towards his own face. She put one leg, then the wrapped other, around his hips and rocked herself against his bare torso, shimmying down to feel his erection against her slick skin. His hands moved to cup her ass and with a final step they fell to the bed.

The next morning the sunlight streamed freely into the large room, falling across the sharp angles of Draco's face as he slept soundly wrapped in black sheets. He woke to hear the shower running somewhere behind his head. Soft singing told him the blonde woman was awake and he wondered how much time he had before she would finish.

He pulled the silk bed sheets from his body, sitting up to place his feet on the carpeted floor as the world swam around him. _There's time for a hangover draft once I get home, _he thought. _No time to dawdle here and get stuck making small talk about how great I am at drunk sex. _He laughed to himself and smiled at the thought of an awkward conversation with his very recent one night stand. His pants and shirt and other clothing had been neatly folded and stacked on a chair near the window, his shoes on the floor with socks stuffed in them.

Again he smirked and laughed at this woman's expense. She would be, or possibly already was, a good house wife, not forgetting her skills in the bedroom he thought. Too bad he had been drunk last night and had no interest in a woman he met while sloshed at a pub in Knockturn Alley. He slipped on his shoes and robes, grabbing his wand as he heard the stream of water in the shower turn off.

The singing continued and grew louder as Draco attempted to sneak out into the living room to escape the witch's questions and return home. He reached to grab his wand and ran into a dresser in front of the bed. It knocked against the bed, jerking the frame against the wall and making a large noise.

"Draco?" the woman called from the bathroom. "Are you awake, love?"

He could hear her shuffling to finish her bathing activities, rushing to see if he was indeed awake. Wrenching open the door he eased around the furniture in front of him as he heard her call his name again as she opened the bathroom door. He waved his hand and the front door whirled agape as he readied his wand to Disapparate. She would have placed wards on her house to prevent Apparating directly inside and he stopped on the spot as he entered the hallway. He turned to shut the door behind him and with a soft pop, Draco Disapparated on the spot.

He landed uneasily in his backyard. The back porch lay before him and he hobbled to a nearby chair and sat momentarily to stop the spinning of his head. Judging by the sun's position in the sky he thought it about noon, plenty of time for himself before returning to work the next day.

The swimming in his head calmed and he got to his feet, waving his wand to unlock the backdoor into his cottage home. Candles went aflame as he passed them and he paused to put on a pot of water for tea. Rubbing his face, Draco disrobed once more as he walked into his own bedroom and pulled on a silk green robe.

He finished making tea and paused against the kitchen counter as his body drank in the warmth from the drink. It was too late for him to take the hangover draft, a hot shower and a day of sleeping would have to suffice to cure his ailments. He turned on the taps and adjusted the water upon entering his bathroom and shower.

Draco stripped naked before walking into the steaming marble and glass walled shower. He adjusted the water temperature, standing under the jets as the stream warmed. His pale, shoulder length hair became plastered to his forehead and neck as he leaned against the marble wall. All the muscles on his lean frame ached, from his stretched calves to his extended biceps and he rotated each appendage in turn to decrease stiffness.

He turned around under the flow of the hot water, the steam around him casting a fog to the bathroom. The water cascaded down his back and poured over his front, rippling down his slight abs, over his tapered waist, and sliding down his legs. A jerk in temperature caused all his body hair to stand on end, goose bumps rising before the heat returned to the water.

Continuing to stand under the strong pulse of hot water, Draco turned his head to let the rush of water bathe his face. His skin adjusted to the heat and he reached one hand behind him to turn the taps further to the left. His broad shoulders stretched his long arms up and his waist bent as his fingertips brushed the tile as he loosened his muscles further.

Draco finished his bathing routine, washing his hair and scrubbing his body. As he stepped out of the glass shower his body felt heavier than he could remember. He trudged over to the vanity mirrors and counter-top and wiped the steam off the mirrors, seeing his reflection to justify the aches his joints felt. Lines drove across his forehead and around his mouth, creases at his eyes showing the stress and age he had already endured. Blonde eyebrows arched flawlessly over long ashy eyelashes and swift grey eyes, eyes that had seen death and unimaginable horrors and eyes that had witnessed love and retribution.

The bedroom proved a cooler atmosphere as Draco redressed once more, this time not putting on pieces of clothing but remaining in his underwear. He drew the heavy curtains across the windows to extinguish light for his slumber. Hauling back the duvet and sheets, he sat on the mattress and swung his feet onto the bed as his body relaxed into the comfort.

Pale blonde locks nestled against the emerald silk pillow, soft skin with blonde eyelashes closing over his stormy grey eyes as Draco situated himself for sleep. Visions of two blonde women swam together as his unconscious seeped further into his consciousness.

One more breath.

And Draco was asleep, unaware of the on goings of the world around him. Dreams turned into nightmares and he wrestled with his comatose thoughts as the day waned on.

.

_He was at Hogwarts, walking down an outdoor hallway. _

_His bare feet treaded lightly on the uneven ground, weary of sticks and stones without glancing down to look for them. He looked up; a cloaked figure hovered around the corner of a stone pillar to his right, hidden in the shadows the moon cast over their head._

_The person motioned him, turning to start walking down a rock path leading to the lake shore closet to the Quidditch pitch. He turned to look behind him, flickers of light indicated human presence in the castle but no one was at a window to watch him walk to a mysterious hooded being waiting for him in the night. A breeze blew the covering of the cloak in front of him and a whisp of blonde hair escaped to flutter in the wind. _

Isla, _he thought, but as he ran closer the color of the hair changed, it was not the golden blonde of Isla but the silvery blonde of the woman from the pub. _

_They stopped in a clearing just beyond the small beach along the Black Lake, the brightness of the open land hidden beneath the thick canopy of trees. _

"_Who are you?" he asked, confused at the mysteriousness of his dream._

"_I am who you want me to be." They gently began to circle him, robes rustling along the leaves and underbrush. _

"_But why do you keep haunting my dreams? Mother, I do not understand."_

_Narcissa removed her hood as she stopped in front of him and smiled tenderly at her son. "Because Draco, you miss me and this is the only way you let yourself see me. You really must try to understand the reasoning for my actions. I realize my death was poorly timed, just after the great Battle of Hogwarts and all. I think that's why we're here tonight; I spent many wonderful years here, Draco. Just as you did, I'm sure." Her laugh tinkled like small Christmas bells and he longed to hear that sound in a conscious state. _

"_I know I was not the best mother to you as a child." She sighed this time, her eyes downcast as she forlornly explained herself. "Your father was so domineering with your upbringing and I feared his wrath just as you grew to. I regret not being there for you more as a child."_

_He leaned into her ghostly hand on his cheek as she soothingly brushed his pale skin. "Listen, my son. You are going to face many obstacles in your life. You will be faced with decisions that will tear your heart in two and you will make decisions that will hurt those you love. But always remember that it is darkest before the dawn. Whatever happens to you, it will get better and your life will be happy and full if you let it be." _

_She smiled once more, replacing her hood and turning to leave him. He reached for the back of her robes though and tugged her back. But when he removed the hood and looked the silver haired blonde in the face, it was not his mother staring back at him._

"_Do not fear the future, Draco." _

_This one-night stand was really sticking with him. The beautiful blonde witch from the night before stared up at him, big blue eyes catching him in a trance as she smirked at him. Recognition hit him as he gazed at her lovely face. Even in his dream state he could not deny your grown up beauty._

_Astoria Greengrass._

"_The future is always changing and you will always have the free will to do as you please and to make your own decisions."_

_She blinked and the face morphed, nose and jaw extending and eyes changing to a familiar bright blue as the silver blonde turned to a flowing medium golden blonde. _

_Isla now stood in his grasp, the robes still clutched in his fingers. _

"_You have a good heart, Draco. You are a worthy man who deserves all the joys the world has to offer. Do not deny yourself something you love because you fear justice for your misdeeds." Her small, warm hand grabbed his and squeezed. "I always tell you everything happens for a reason; not everything is within your control, remember that one Draco." She smiled, a dimple appearing on her right cheek and on the side of her left eye, both battle scars and imperfections. _

_Once more she moved to leave and he did not reach out for her as she turned, replacing the hood and gliding into the surrounding forest. _

_._

Draco woke with a start, glancing at the small clock on the nightstand to confirm that he had indeed slept through the night into the next day. The strange dream lingered on the outskirts of his memories, pieces falling together in a random order making the sequence of events different. He remembered the three women, their faces distinctly appearing in his mind as they morphed into each other like in the dream.

One thing was certain, Draco knew his mother wanted resolution and he knew his time was limited to create peace where there had always been hostility. Rising out of bed and trotting to the loo, Draco recognized his task for the day. It could possibly kill him but he had to return to Malfoy Manor.

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**A/N:**

**I know how random and strange some OC stories can be but please give this story a chance, I hope you can grow to love Draco as much as I do.**

**Also, thank you for reading! This may seem somewhat disjointed from the following chapters since it was written almost two years ago so please be patient, this chapter will be revised as the rest of the story is updated. Please review!**


	2. The Mess I Made

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any characters from the Harry Potter world. Much love and thanks to JK Rowling for her creation of such a beautiful and magical world.**

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**Chapter Two – The Mess I Made **

Flight was freedom.

Despite the needless broom between her legs, Isla surrendered herself to the all-encompassing motions of flight. The wind whipping her golden hair and flapping through her deep maroon Unspeakables robe, Isla soared higher in the night sky, the clouds surrounding her as the stars seemed just within reach. She glanced behind her to quickly peer around for her slower partner. For all his good looks and charm, Thom Mercade was scared shitless of heights and dreaded the higher skies when their missions required secrecy.

Isla grinned to herself, small hands gripping tighter on the polished wooden handle as she bent down closer to the stick to accelerate once more. Thom groaned from his distanced position and nervously teetered on his broom as he attempted to make it go faster. Instead the broom seemed to sputter before kicking and gaining speed. Thom grasped the handle until his knuckles were white and his leather gloves were stretched tight, praying Isla would pause and wait for him at some point.

They had already been flying over for two hours but their destination on the north western coast of Scotland was still many kilometers away. Thom sighed in relief when the black speck with liquid gold flying above that was Isla came into view. She was doing lazy circles around a small, puffy cloud, broom weaving through the fragments of cottony fluff. When he was close enough she stopped her flight patterns and came to pause in front of him, the handles of their brooms clanking as Thom steadied himself on the resting contraption. Isla noticed his panicked look at the broom and laughed merrily, throwing her golden head back as the tinkling sound echoed in the night sky.

"Still not a fan of heights, Mercade?"

He guffawed and met her ocean gaze with false bravado. "Me? Do I look like the type of wizard who would be scared of anything, Brandt?" Confidence laced his words but Isla recognized his show when she saw it.

She shook her head with amused pleasure and pulled up on her broom to turn around, moving back slightly to idle beside Thom. The wind swept through their thick robes and the pair remained still as the night settled around them. Rotating her head to look at Thom, Isla opened her mouth to speak when a small raven came to rest on the end of her broom. Thom startled and looked to Isla in horror at her bad luck but the witch simply smiled happily and reached a hand out to stroke the bird's spine. The raven preened and spread his wings, jumping off into flight in one swoop. Isla sighed with longing and Thom raised his eyebrows when she finally returned his gaze.

"What?" She said with surprise. "I have a way with birds."

Thom clucked his tongue and chuckled, gripping his broom and lowering his body as he indicated his desire to be on land.

"Whatever you say Brandt. Now can we get going? We still have a ways to go."

Isla laughed once more but obliged, moving to copy his pose and said, "Yes sir," with mock salute. She kicked off and spiraled her broom downwards as Thom raced to catch up. Isla lazily dropped in to large loops until her partner was again beside her. He shook his head in disapproval but gladly let the more experienced witch lead the way towards their destination.

The bright moon was big and full over the ocean's edge when the Unspeakable partners landed on a secluded beach. The soothing waters lapped at the rocky sand beaches, foaming at its peak before retreating to the ocean's depths. High cliffs ran along the outer edges of the ocean front, large spacious houses dotting the coastline with flickering lights or ominous shadows.

Isla walked up the sand until she reached grass where she perched herself on a large tree root, leaning her broom against the trunk as she sat. Thom followed behind, his broom trailing in the sand as he stopped in front of his partner. Isla silently inspected the far away houses, her gaze catching on the darkened homes with approval.

The artifact they were sent to find had supposedly been missing for many decades. The lost pendant of Ophelia was said to hold numerous magical properties, including a mysterious curse. If used properly the jewel could freeze time, rendering the user limitless in their magical capabilities.

The escaped Azkaban convict, Alexzander Worthington, had been following a lead on the location of the iconic pendant when Aurors had followed a tip that lead straight to his hideout. Since his high-stakes breakout three days ago, Isla and Thom had been on a manhunt to find the jewelry before the power hungry criminal could. Their idiotic boss, Colin Fitzpatrick, had stupidly sent them to the countrysides first, ignoring Isla's pleas to retrace Alexzander's path to the oceanside cliffs. When their separate hunts did not produce any results, Colin relented and allowed Isla to drag Thom to the Scottish coasts where Worthington had been found.

The Unspeakables did not know where they should begin their search. Sketchy informants claimed the pendant was located in an abandoned house where "the air was as salty as the water, green lands running into the deep blue oceans." Isla did not hesitate to state her opinion that the clue was clearly pointing to the cliffed beaches where Alexzander had been going.

But now that they were here, Isla could not distinguish any remarkable differences between any of the houses to indicate which one held the necklace. Only two of the seven houses contained signs of human life, leaving the remaining five houses to be searched. Figuring there was no better time to start, Isla stood from her position and faced Thom.

"Let's start with this small fish house on the end." Isla stated, pointing to closest house, a small, wooden shack in comparison to the large looming houses behind it. "We'll have to go through each house down the line."

Thom nodded, turning to levitate their brooms together before casting a shrinking charm to place them in his pocket. His dark hair catching in the ocean's breeze, Thom strode to an overgrown path leading up to the house's sandy back door. Isla fell into his shadow as she followed close, almost running into his broad back when he stopped to _Alohomora_ the rusty locks. The creaky door swung open on its hinges, softly banging against the wall as it opened fully.

Dusty shadows littered the front room, pale moonlight streaming in through the broken windows to illuminate slips of the room. Thom took a step inside, moving aside as Isla walked in behind him, and glanced around with agitated impatience.

"_Lumos_," both Unspeakables said, raising their wands to survey the little abandoned house.

Cracked dishes littered a wooden table that had seen better days. Insects and bugs crawled around the mildewed sink, flies hovering about over moldy pieces of the cabinets. On the other side of the room a side table was over turned, it's matching chairs on their sides clearly showing the recent presence of someone else searching for something.

"I'll start in here." Isla directed to Thom. "You go to the front and overturn every floor board and open every concealed item until we find something."

Thom nodded and trekked through the scattered debris, his slight light extinguishing as he walked through the battered doorway and into the next room. Isla moved to the discarded piles of trash covering a shadowed corner, beginning a fruitless search that would take them well into the morning hours.

It was nearly noon when Isla decided the small house was empty of their precious necklace and went to find Thom. Calling his name several times, Isla wondered where her egotistical partner could have wandered off to in such a small place when she stumbled upon his sleeping form on a broken couch. The middle support beams were cracked and Thom's ass was snuggled into the sinking section of the couch with his arms tucked behind his head for support.

Isla smiled fondly, reaching a dainty hand to brush a stray lock of dark brown hair from Thom's sweaty forehead. They had not been partners for many months but Isla felt more comfortable with the handsome wizard than she had with any previous man or woman. Draco swore it was because the fellow Unspeakable resembled him in appearance and demeanor but Isla scoffed at that comparison, jokingly ascertaining that Thom was a much better man than Draco. She secretly agreed that the two men held many similar qualities and feared that her attraction to the Malfoy heir would rub off on her relationship with Thom.

The sleeping wizard startled in his sleep and his grey eyes flew open as Isla jumped back to hide her close presence. Thom looked around, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights, and sighed in relief when he only saw Isla standing before him.

"Sorry," Isla said sheepishly, her hands fiddling behind her back as Thom sat up and rubbed at his dry eyes.

"'ts nothing," he responded standing to his full height, just two inches taller than Isla, as she took a step back to give him room as he stretched his long arms high. "I shouldn't have been asleep." Thom punctuated his words with a wide yawn that brought a grin to Isla's impish face.

"Problems at home?" Isla inquired with mild curiosity, a chuckle trailing the end of her question.

Thom dropped his dark head and shook it with resigned placidity. "It's hard with any relationship in the profession we are in. You should know that." Thom added with arrogant assurance.

The friendly smile on her face dropped and Isla's expression became stone as Thom turned from her and walked through the room to the dirty kitchen. She heard rattling and banging of cabinets and broken objects as Thom yelled through the door, "You didn't find anything. Right?"

Isla fumed at his confidence in her inability to complete her job, clenching and unclenching her fists to calm her ignited temper. Mentally counting to three, Isla huffed loudly before stepping quietly through the entrance to glare at Thom between slit eyes.

"No." She ground out, her tan arms crossing over her robed chest. "But then again, it does not seem like you found anything with your arse firmly planted between the couch cushions."

"See that's why I like you, Brandt." Thom said with a chuckle, turning around to lean backwards against the ceramic sink. "You don't mince your words and you don't take shite from anyone."

Not knowing how to respond to such a randomly sincere thought from her partner, Isla furrowed her brows and tightened her arms crossed around her body before speaking.

"There's nothing here. There are four more houses down the coast that are empty. Let's get going to the next one before I decide you're not worth the time and finish this mission alone."

She did not give Thom a moment to respond and promptly began walking to the exit. His grin widened and Thom shook his head as he pushed off the sink to follow her out. Jogging to catch up to her on the over grown grassy lawn, Thom jokingly doubled over to catch his breath when he stopped in front of her.

"I have a better idea." He said when she glared at his stance impeding her movement. "How's about I go find us some food in the local town and you go on up to the next house and start looking? I'm famished and I'm sure your stomach would appreciate some fuel about now too."

Isla opened to mouth to protest, to say that of course he would volunteer to leave the mission for a couple of hours, when her stomach opened up and growled loudly. She crossed her arms once more to cover the sound but it was only muffled as Thom snickered despite Isla's fierce stance.

"Fine. But be quick. I'm not getting paid to do all your work too."

Thom laughed sarcastically. "Ha ha Isla. You make it sound like all I do is lounge about." He smiled goofily, laughing at his own joker, before grabbing Isla by the shoulders and pulling her in to sloppily kiss her on the cheek. She was less stunned than grossed out by his reaction and moved to shove him away when he released her and jumped back a step. "Thanks honey. You're a doll." Thom stated, his voice imitating her higher pitch. "I'll be back soon. Don't save all the good trash digging for me!"

Thom turned and was walking away before Isla could come up with a snarky remark. His retreating figure bouncing merrily, Isla cursed Thom and his ingenuity. She glanced over her shoulder at their next house and with a resigned sigh Isla trekked through the underbrush until she reached the next battered door of their second house.

Thom returned in less time than she thought and Isla was quick to insinuate that there must have been no attractive witches in the village or else she would not have seen him for days. He conceded with a devil may care, cheesy grin while laying out a feast of assorted foods. They ate well and rested for a couple of hours before they agreed the necklace would not find itself.

Thom and Isla spent the next four days scouring three of the remaining houses, each large home proving to be more fruitless than the last. Abandoned residences seemed to collect all sorts of odd items and each day brought new surprises to the Unspeakables who thought they had seen it all. The third house on the shoreline they entered had been the most bizarre. Each room was at one time decorated with opposing themes to the connecting rooms. Isla was startled to walk through one doorway and find herself surrounded by at least one hundred mounted heads of endangered species from around the world.

Needless to say, both Thom and Isla were very glad that they were finally reaching their final house to search. The last house was on the point of the cove, a small cement house by the water's edge surrounded by overgrown hedges and massive trees. The pair hiked along the beaten path until it circled around to face the little house. Both Isla and Thom stopped in their tracks when their backs faced the ocean and they looked up at the sprawling property behind the house.

An old, Victorian style home covered a half acre of land, decrepit wooden boards falling off from various pieces of the house. It looked like an antique doll house, the white trim and sea foam green color barely tarnished in its abandoned state. Everything seemed fine as the Unspeakables made their way across the overgrown lawn to walk up the rickety stairs to the wrap-around porch. A beautiful old oak tree in the front yard threw shadows across the threatening house and enhanced the chills along her spine as Isla stepped on each ancient plank of wood. Thom walked down the creaking patio, cupping his hands to peer into the darkened windows of the house.

"It looks empty," he said after a moment, leaning back to brush his hands of the dust from the unwashed windows.

Isla nodded and pulled out her wand to tap it three times against the firm door. A blue haze grew from the tip of her wand and ran across the wooden boards of the house, a detection spell set to trace any forms of life. When nothing happened Isla waved her wand once more and whispered, _Alohomora_, as the door pushed open and a slight draft expelled from the opening. Thom did not hesitate and shouldered past Isla to walk through the entryway and into the musky house. Isla followed him in and shoved the noisy door shut behind her, dust billowing up to cause her to sneeze as the outside winds died.

Catching the attention of his partner, Thom pointed to the separate doors leading from the room while speaking. "I'll scope out the first floor while you take a look at the upstairs. We'll get a feel for the house and where everything is and then decide where to start. Deal?"

Isla nodded her head, looking around interestedly. "Deal."

The pair split up. Thom took his athlete's body into one of the dining rooms while Isla turned to walk up the grand front staircase. Large portraits and scenic landscapes dotted the flowery wallpapered halls and Isla stopped to admire the moving people and settings as she slowly worked her way to the second floor. There was no telling which wealthy pureblooded family had owned this house but they were obviously Dark Arts supporters if the necklace of Ophelia was rumored to be here.

An hour or so later, just as the sun was setting and casting shades of reds, oranges, and pinks through the many windows, Isla walked back downstairs just as Thom was coming out of the kitchen, the swinging door banging loudly as it shut behind him.

"Anything?" He asked with mild disinterest as he shoved his thin hands into the front pockets of his robes.

"Nothing terribly alarming. Your basic bedrooms, drawing rooms, play rooms. Pretty much any kind of room you could want for entertainment purposes - it's upstairs. Nice bathrooms too. Big, ornate bath tubs with the clawed feet and –"

"Yea, I get the picture." Thom interrupted. "These people had money. And from the looks of it, they weren't too cautious with spending it."

He glanced around, his gaze dropping on every piece of perfectly in place furniture, every item that was strewn about as if it were left but for a moment.

"But did you get the feeling that a family still lives here? As if we're intruding while they're out on holiday?"

Isla scrunched her nose, thinking back to the rooms she had just wandered through, a vague sense of misplacement creeping over her. Each room had felt as if the presence of someone had just left, as if the warmth was waiting to return shortly.

"Yes. I had that feeling." She admitted. "The nursery had a fresh set of travelling clothes and needed baby essentials laid out. And the music room, the piano bench was pushed out just far enough from the piano to look like someone had just walked off. The sheet music was turned to the middle of a hand-written song with a dried bottle of ink sitting beside it. I didn't think twice about it but now that you say that. . . ."

She stared at Thom with growing unease, his own dark eyebrows clasped together as he quickly thought through their situation.

"Maybe we should wait until daylight tomorrow to begin searching this house. I'm getting an ominous feeling just standing here with no lights on." Isla suggested, her hesitant steps already taking her to the waiting front door.

Thom met her scrutinizing stare with a nod, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he paced towards Isla.

"I agree but we have already been out here for a week. Searching this house could take us a few days and I do not want to spend more time procrastinating our explorations until day break." Thom admitted, uncertainty lacing his words as he ceased his movements in front of Isla.

Sighing heavily, Isla dropped her gaze to the wooden floors. She knew he was right; any more nights away from her oversized, overstuffed bed, Draco's hard body warm behind her, and Isla knew she would be likely to cement Thom to a broom, hexing him to fly, until he agreed to go home.

But the eerie vibe she felt coming off this house gave Isla pause. Even for the brief minutes she had slipped into her Animagus form, Isla had sensed a magical pull to the house. She may only turn into a simple bird of flight, but Isla had too been conscious of the energy when in her second form.

"Fine." She agreed, her disapproval and reluctance evident in her tone of voice. "But first, we're going to the village for supper and a wash up. I will not trust any of the bathrooms in this house to not spray poison on me or suck me down the drains."

Thom laughed with incredulity, his thick head of dark hair thrown back as he mentally pictured a naked Isla begging him for help as she struggled to hold onto the edge of the large tubs. She huffed at his amusement, her arms crossing as she stomped her foot to get her partner's attention. Thom continued laughing, Isla's shrieking face imprinted in his thoughts as he opened his stormy eyes to peer at the upset witch.

Throwing his arms up in surrender, Thom strode forward until he was an arm's length from Isla. He reached up and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly as she cocked an indignant eyebrow.

"Lighten up, Brandt. Another 24 hours and we'll be done with this shotty assignment."

Removing herself from his playful grasp, Isla marched to the front door and swung it open, turning back to look at Thom as she stood in the doorway. "Are you coming or not?" She asked sassily.

Thom grinned further, his loping gait carrying him past his waiting partner to stand once more on the creaking wooden porch. Isla halted just behind him, pulling the door shut before muttering a quick locking charm. You could never be too cautious when risking your life for a meaningless artifact, she always used to say. Thom now waiting on the grass below, Isla moved down the groaning steps, excitedly moving away from the haunted house.

It was near midnight when the light hearted pair ambled back onto the house's property and jumped onto the porch in unison, their combined laughter spilling across the empty land. Thom stood off to the side, finishing the explanation of a joke as Isla half-listened, half-concentrated on opening the front door once more. They were exuberant from their hours spent away from the house, their worries escaped as they relaxed for a bit.

Isla recalled the disarming charm for her earlier locking and pushed at the large door, whispering _Alohamora _just in case, while shoving slightly until the door gave and she fell into the foyer of the grand house. Thom chuckled behind her but ceased instantly when he took a step through the open doorway, giving Isla a hand to stand up. It was bright; candles were lit despite the vacant outward appearance and the random items that were neatly placed before were now clearly strewn about.

Someone was here.

Clanking could be heard from the rear of the house and Isla glanced back to Thom, walking slowly in the direction of the noise as she steadied her wand towards her path. With as much silence and stealth as she could manage, Isla pressed against the swinging kitchen door until she was peering through a thin crack, two voices spilling into the vacant air of the house.

The spacious kitchen was aglow, smells of cooking foods wafting through the small opening. Her blue eyes darted around until the shadow of a man came into focus. He was short, burly with a thick mane of carroty orange hair atop his scarred face. She could not see who he was talking to but the woman in the room responded to his words, her light voice sounding familiar against Isla's ears.

Thom moved behind her until his slightly larger frame was hovering over her shoulder, his head turned so his ear was focused on the other room's chatter. A nervous tremble enclosed Isla as his warmth surrounded her but she knocked it off to nerves for their current predicament and returned her attention to the bickering couple in the kitchen.

"- you need me for is to do your dirty work. I ain't doing it anymore!" The angry man was now yelling.

"Dirty work?" The more sophisticated woman responded. "Darling, my dirty work does not actually entail dirty hands. And I know that is what you're implying, Henry."

"Then why did you only call on me because you were lookin' for something?" Henry questioned. In the short crack Isla and Thom saw him raise the long knife he had been using to butcher a chicken and point it in the direction of where the woman was sitting. "You've shunned me all these years 'cause I'm a Squib, Celia, don't forget that. I bet it was all Duke and Honey's idea to send you down here to fetch me, our loving parents would not disgrace themselves with searching for their forgotten son."

The recognition came to Isla in that instant. Celia as in Celia Presston, the notoriously scandalous daughter of Duke Presston, wizarding publisher extraordinaire. She took a large gulp of air and pushed back against Thom, gently releasing the door as they stepped back from the kitchen.

Thom looked to her in shock, recognition dawning on his face as well.

"What the fuck are we going to do?" He blanched, his handsome face falling white as the siblings' arguing escalated. "They're looking for the necklace too! And the Presstons! If Fitzpatrick finds out that they're after this thing, he'll reassign the case to Shackford and Dunlope."

"I know!" Isla hoarsely whispered. "We can't leave now. We'll have to search the house using silencing charms until we figure out what their agenda is. We'll have to go -"

Isla had leaned backwards and not realizing there was a coat rack and umbrella holder just to her left, she bumped into the taller object, knocking it against the wall before it crashed to the floor in a loud clamor. She automatically winced, squeezing her eyes shut as the entire house quieted at the sudden interruption.

The Presston siblings were silent in the kitchen, their slight footsteps shuffling across the room to face the swinging door. Thom looked thoroughly embarrassed and annoyed. He raised his arm and held his palm out as if he were going to smack Isla for her stupidity, their joking gesture coming as second nature when it was meant as a serious action.

With nowhere to run and their intruders quickly moving to search for the source of the commotion, Isla and Thom backed against opposing walls with their wands stiffly held at their sides within aiming distance. Their gazes met and for the numerous time, the Unspeakable partners nodded curtly as a fight approached.

An empty push propelled the swinging door forward. From her position on the side of the room facing the opening door, Isla saw the shadowed figures of Celia and Henry Presston. Henry was standing protectively in front of his older sister, the knife clearly visible as Celia reached an arm around her brother to poke her wand forward.

The door swung back to the kitchen and when it opened again to the foyer Isla noticed the change in the sibling's stance a moment too late. Henry pressed a hand near the hinges of the door to hold it open as Celia ducked around the door frame to point her wand at Isla, her red lips curled in a curse. Her arm was moving to raise her wand completely when a black blur jumped in front of Isla.

Celia threw her curse at the same instant, her hatred scream of "_Sectumsempra!"_, hitting Thom in the chest as he blocked the hex from getting Isla. Her piercing shrill sounded with the thud of his body on the floor as Isla dropped to knees to press her hands in the bleeding torso of her partner. Celia cackled mercilessly and aimed her wand at Isla, her fingers grasping it tighter as Henry took a predatory step forward.

Isla tore her gaze from the dying man in her lap to hatefully stare at Celia. Her hand moved of its own accord and Isla did not have to stop herself as she directed her wand at Henry and yelled, "_Stupefy!"_ His eyes widened in shock and the Squib got his leg lifted to run when the powerful spell hit him full on. His robust body smashed against the wooden door and he fell backwards onto the kitchen tile as his head hit the corner of the door jam, striking away his consciousness and creating a pool of blood under his red head.

Celia cried out and threw an arm up to catch the door before it came back to hit her in the face. The brunette roared in anger as she turned on Isla in a fury. She bolted through the opened door and walked the short distance to Isla's position as the swinging door fell back to shut, pushing Henry's prone body into the kitchen and out of sight.

"You bitch!" Celia cried.

She stooped to grab Isla by the collar of her robes but the Unspeakable was faster. Isla released her grip on the still bleeding Thom and shoved her wand in the approaching face of Celia. The witch did not stop her movement and as Isla sprung her legs to stand up, they collided, Celia pressing Isla awkwardly against the wall.

The women struggled for dominance as Isla's wand was stuck between their bodies. Celia was able to wiggle her forearm up Isla's chest and press her elbow into her collarbone, pinning Isla to the wall. Celia grinned evilly, steadying her stance to place her right foot on the outside of Isla's and suffocate the woman with her presence as she pressed the length of her body against her. Isla turned her head to the side as Celia leaned in close and breathed down her neck, her warm breath blowing across Isla's heaving chest.

"Look who's got who now, you little bitch." Celia whispered.

Isla shut her eyes as Celia deliberately breathed down her neck, missing the slight movement as Celia reached to the side table to her right to firmly grasp a thick, golden candlestick. She held it behind her head, posed ready to strike the witch in front of her. Isla's eyes popped open when Celia released her weight just the slightest bit, her vision clearing as the Presston witch rotated her shoulder to deliver a heavy blow with the metal object.

She reacted so instantaneously that when she thought back on it, Isla was scared of the quick movements she performed.

Mouthing the words and holding her wand tighter in her sweaty palm, Isla screamed "_Avada Kedavra!"_ in the spilt second it took for her to see the damaging blow that was going to be inflicted on her. Celia's caramel eyes widened a fraction before the powerful jet of green light overcame her body and took her life. Isla was shaking as the woman coldly fell to the ground, falling haphazardly to her side as the candlestick holder hit the wood with a loud clank.

Nearly frozen to the spot, Isla began hyperventilating. She had never killed someone intentionally before. In the line of duty, yes. But she did not think this would qualify for an it's-ok pass as a work related accident. Isla quickly stepped over Celia's body to press open the kitchen door to look down on Henry.

The pool of congealed blood underneath his head and body was large enough that Isla knew he would not wake as well. She stumbled backwards, the door swinging in front of her as the enormity of her actions crashed down on her.

Isla was torn from her shock by a thick groan and she turned in remembrance as Thom clutched his gaping wounds and met her gaze with a pleading look. She hurried to the floor, sliding in his blood as she drug his body across her lap to heal the wounds.

She looked at his face with a panicked expression, her small hands hovering over his torso as she stroked her wand back and forth, muttering healing spells to return some of the blood and clot the rest, sealing the wounds as best she could. His shirt was torn apart from the curse and Isla wept openly as she lightly traced the fresh scars on his body. Thom lay unconscious against her splayed thighs; his limp body sprawled out as if he were kicking an invisible foe.

Blood splattered everywhere, covering her hands and arms, Isla cried for the loss of life and her hand in the actions. She cried for the uncertainty of what would happen now. But mostly importantly, Isla cried for the piece of herself that she had destroyed when she intentionally killed Celia Presston.

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**A/N: Thank you for reading! The plot bunny has been running light speed circles in my head and I had to hurriedly get all this down before the bunny became distracted with another Sev/Lily idea. This was the first piece of anything that I have written for this story in over a year and I am very pleased with how it turned out, and so very quick too! Anyways, the story will now pick up and get into the juicy plot details. Of course I have gone too long without talk of my favorite leading man, so do not worry, Draco will be back in full force in the next chapter. **

**Please review and tell me what you think! Reviews are the main way I know that somebody, somewhere wants me to finish this tale. AND, I really appreciate the stroking of my ego. So go now! Review! **


	3. Here, There, Everywhere

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any characters from the Harry Potter world. If I did, Draco would be the hero after Harry saves the world. But much love and thanks to JK Rowling for her creations.**

**P.S. The M rating takes effect . . . . NOW.  
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**A/N: Also for anyone interested to know, the following is the shortened description of the Department of Mysteries. All information was accessed through **_**Wikipedia **_**but was confirmed through various articles and interviews found from the lovely JKR herself. **

_The __Department of Mysteries__, located on Level Nine, is a department in the Ministry of Magic which studies particular enigmas (death, time, space, thought, and love) and stores copies of prophecies made in the __Harry Potter__ universe. The rooms within the Department of Mysteries include: the Brain Room, the Entrance Room, the Space Chamber, the Death Chamber, the Time Chamber, the Hall of Prophecy, and the Ever-Locked Room, or the Love Chamber. _

_Of course, Unspeakables are the group of witches and wizards who work in the Department of Mysteries. _Since little is known about what Unspeakables actually do, I assume that they go on important missions to find powerfully magical objects that could forever destroy the universe as we know it. So I am taking leniencies with Draco and Isla's professions, enabling them to have had previous combat, Dark Arts, and rare magic training. I also assume that they, like Aurors since both are under the Department of Law Enforcement, act as police, Unspeakables more akin to the CIA or FBI in the USA, to control and contain magical crimes and criminals.

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**Chapter Three – Here, There, Everywhere**

Draco Malfoy was in a very foul mood.

The past two weeks had gone by without incident. He had woken up every morning, gone to work in the Unspeakables office, come home to an empty house, and become more frustrated every night that passed without word from Isla. Missions could take any number of days to complete, always varying on the importance and the location, but they had come into a routine of alerting the other when they would be gone for more than a fortnight.

Just a short owl or a quick Floo. Something to tell the other person that they were all right, emphasizing that there would be little to no danger involved in their return. He knew he could not blame her though if she had returned but was avoiding him because of the fight that had caused her to leave early for her mission. Draco was, more often than not, the first person to throw judgment but his recent, very real, cheating actions left a heavy guilt on his mind. Isla could not understand his selfish need to try to dispel his past reputation while still somehow proving he had not changed at all.

He had become a different person since the war but old habits are slow to die and Draco knew better than anybody that if people expected you to behave a certain way, they would be disappointed with anything else. Isla had taken the time to work out Draco's commitment issues stemming from his tumultuous relationship with Ginny Weasley and she had taken the heat when their companionship went public.

She had opened his heart to love again and although he had never said it, Isla knew that Draco loved her.

But apparently not enough.

Draco regretted his rash actions over Isla's spite filled words. He could not change what had happened but he could make sure that she never found out.

Currently he was at Malfoy Manor attending to the ailing Lucius Malfoy. Making amends had to start somewhere. His father was dying quicker than the doctors at Saint Mungo's had anticipated, his body becoming more frail with each passing day as no ailment or cure could be found. He was angrier with himself for staying away than anything else, Draco knew his mother should not have had to come to him in a dream for him to see his father.

When he had first come home the previous week, Draco did not know what to expect. He had not been to his childhood home since the death of Narcissa.

A fact that he very much remembered as slight nerves had plagued him when approaching the grand manor. He had lifted the heavy door knocker and let it fall, feeling it more appropriate that he announce his arrival rather than just barge in. A small house elf had opened the door and looked in bewilderment as Draco waited on the front steps to be let in to the house of his namesake.

He repeated the same manners and asked to be shown to his father's chambers. The small elf twisted her hands nervously, large eyes running across Draco's face as she nodded repeatedly.

Lucius was gaunt, white as a sheet when laid against the black silk bed dressings Draco was accustomed to seeing in his parent's bedroom. The thin amount of snowy hair on his head fell in stringy chunks to his shoulders, his collarbones protruding through the night shirt he wore. The once handsomely sharp cheekbones now stood out on his thin face, making him look more like a skeleton than a living man.

Draco had paused to peer at the ghost of Lucius lying in bed, a grim smile coming to his father's face when he noticed his son.

"Draco." Lucius hoarsely whispered. "You finally came to see me."

The sick wizard had instantly reverted into a coughing fit as soon as the words left his mouth, his throat dry and sore from unuse. Draco had hurried to Lucius' bedside, perching on the edge of the mattress to place a hand on his father's cold palm lying open atop the duvet.

"Yes, father. I am here."

Since his prodigal son return home twelve days ago, Draco had been to Malfoy Manor every other day, watching as Lucius' health improved in fragments day by day. He could not move out of the bed so Draco moved a small table and chair next to Lucius, sitting to tell his father stories from his past, then to sit silently reading when Lucius was asleep. When the doctors came to evaluate Lucius, Draco wandered to the great library.

He paroosed the lengthy aisles, pausing to glance at random book titles on the ancient shelves. Draco then usually ended up asleep on one of the overstuffed sofas, jolting awake in the middle of the night to the burning embers of the fireplace and the need to return home to sleep in his own bed. Each time he returned late into the night, Draco had expectantly waited to walk through his front door and see Isla waiting for him. Every night his hopes were dashed as the dark cottage awaited his lonely presence.

Knowing this evening would not be any different, Draco waited his time until Lucius was fitfully sleeping before leisurely pacing to his literary sanctum. When the books held no interest for his scattered thoughts, Draco began walking patterns into the plush carpet, his mind unable to think about anything but Isla.

The heat seemed to turn up a notch in the spacious room as sweat beaded along his fair hairline and Draco loosened his emerald stripped tie before removing it and partially unbuttoning his black button down. Throwing the useless tie to the expansive desk, Draco undid the cuff links around each wrist before precisely rolling up each sleeve to his elbow to expose his fair, muscled forearms. For a moment his silver eyes caught on the blank skin that at one time held his Dark Mark. There was now no evidence of his involvement with Voldemort and every regrettable mistake he had made during that time.

Tired of waiting for nothing to happen, Draco hastily retrieved his tie and robes from the desk, throwing them over the crook of one arm as he turned to walk to the large stone fireplace. The small dish containing Floo powder waited for him on a side table and Draco squeezed his hand around a fair amount as he strode forward.

Throwing the green shimmery powder into the hearth as he turned on the spot, he yelled "Draco's Cottage."

_I really need to find a better name for that_, Draco thought sarcastically as he was pulled from the library at Malfoy Manor.

Coughing as he stopped spinning, now in his own smaller fireplace, Draco stepped through piles of soot as he ducked his head to stand fully in his own living room. He pulled his wand from his pocket and quickly illuminated the room, tossing his outer garments over the arm of a chair. Bending down, Draco used one foot to kick off his shoe before repeating the action with the other shoe. He peeled off his black dress socks, squishing his toes between the thick fibers of an accent rug.

Replacing his wand in the band of his trousers, Draco puttered around the furniture before walking into the windowed kitchen. Even in the dark of the night Draco could see fireflies buzzing around the background through the many glass. He waved his hand and a pile of large candles on the marble island went aflame, casting a soft glow to the room.

Draco set about making a short dinner, briefly cleaning the workspaces when he was finished. Stomach full, Draco _Nox_ed all the lights while walking to the back of the house to find his bedroom. Sighing as he pushed open the ornate wooden door, Draco was not prepared for the site that met his eyes when he looked up upon entering the large room.

On the right side of the room next to a dying fire, Isla was curled up on the couch, her body steeled into a ball in the very corner between the pillows. She was sound asleep; her golden head leaned against the wooden trim of the sofa as her arms crossed over her bent legs. Draco released a heavy sigh, a weight lifting from his shoulders, as he grinned emphatically and immediately lengthened his strides to rush to her side.

Maneuvering around a glass coffee table Draco stopped short, his breath catching as Isla groaned in her sleep, her blonde head snapping to the side before falling backwards against the couch. The glow from the fire spun the gold in her hair and a halo seemed to dance a crown around her head as her eyes rolled rapidly behind their lids.

A glowing vial caught his eye and Draco inched closer to peer at the item in Isla's hands. Her arms clasped around her knees, a small bottle was tucked within her folded hands. His blonde eyebrows twerked upwards, intrigued, and Draco carefully pinched the stem of the vial before gently lifting it from her grasp.

Isla twitched suddenly but her fingers did not realize the absence of their possession.

Holding the two inch long vial in front of his face, Draco silently surveyed the swirling silver liquid.

_Memories_. 

"What have you done, my love?" Draco asked forlornly, his gaze turning to the sleeping witch with a puzzling look.

He did not hesitate to make the decision to view the slideshow of memories from Isla's mind. Whatever had happened while she was gone, it was clearly affecting her greatly. Draco now noticed the worn condition of her clothing, her robes tattered and dirty, blood lightly spattered across her once white shirt, as well as the small cuts, scrapes, and bruises covering her hands and forearms and dotting her beautiful face.

Gripping the glass container tightly, Draco turned and strode out of the master bedroom to walk down the wooden hallway to his office. He flicked his wand for the lights, placing the vial on his paper strewn desk, and turning to retrieve his Pensieve.

The light, silver dish floated across the room to rest in front of Draco, waiting for him to pour the liquid memories within. Pulling the glass stopper, Draco turned the vial sideways to watch as the liquid twirled softly within the Pensieve, expanding to become smoky clouds.

"Well, here goes nothing," Draco said to the empty room, his lips tightening grimly.

He bent his towhead, the long locks falling forward, and submerged himself in Isla's memories. Falling into a developing scene, Draco drifted to the ground and purposefully strode to walk behind the figment of Isla as she and her no-good partner approached a large house on an abandoned cliff overlooking the rushing sea.

The scenes that unraveled were unexpected and when Draco was once more standing in the cool air of his office, he immediately braced himself against his wooden desk, his large hands molding to the edges of the furniture. His thoughts spun mercilessly as he fought to keep the repeated looks of pain and fear on Isla's face from his visual forefront. Sighing heavily multiple times, Draco threw his head back in anguish as the realization that Isla was soon to be in danger crossed his mind.

His heart tore at the idea that she could be taken from him, locked away in Azkaban or worse. Balling his fists Draco slammed them in accordance against the sturdy desk, growling frustratedly.

He would have to fix this situation. He could remove Isla from the wizarding society and hide her until he found justifiable cause that she was innocent of the malicious activities. His position as an Unspeakable allowed him some room for leniency but he would need to pull more than one string to free Isla of murder charges.

Deciding he needed to implement his plan as soon as possible, Draco straightened his body and turned to walk briskly back into his bedroom. The fluttering light in the darkened room shadowed Isla's compacted figure on the couch and Draco thought to hesitate before kneeling next to her face, gently placing a warm hand on her clasped hands to lightly rock her awake.

"Isla." He purred, his silken voice entering her rapturous dreams to slowly bring her to consciousness.

"Isla." Draco said once more as her eyelids fluttered open and her large blue eyes grasped the close presence of Draco.

Her blonde head rotated slightly and she smiled sadly as tears instantly formed in the corners of her almond shaped eyes. Isla dropped her hands, her legs falling open as they moved to slide against Draco's hips, and she sat up straight before throwing her torso against Draco's solid frame. Small hands encircled his neck and her sobs wet the shoulder of his shirt as Draco enveloped Isla, her face pressed into the crook of the elegant column of his neck.

Draco held her as she cried, his long hands stroking her mane of wavy hair before moving down to rub her back soothingly. He leaned backwards to sit down, carrying Isla with him as his legs bent underneath her body wrapped around his torso.

After minutes of muffled sobbing and then quieter sniffles, Isla pulled back to look fully on Draco's face. His beauty still astounded her, she did not realize a man could appear so striking and still contain the complete sex appeal of the manliest man.

Draco shivered, his gunmetal eyes closing, as Isla swept a delicate hand lightly across the sharp planes of his cheekbones, a finger tracing the supple outline of his full lips. The pad of her thumb brushed his lips once more before reaching to grab the base of his skull to tilt his face towards her.

Eyes still closed, Draco felt her warm breath against his chin as Isla paused before parting her lips and pressing them hungrily against Draco's. He responded with matched ferocity, pulling her flush against his chest as Isla moaned, flicking her tongue to dance along the edges of his teeth, unreleased desire coming free.

When her hands raced down to unbutton the rest of his shirt, Draco let her, kissing along her shaking jawline as Isla struggled to open the shirt, eventually ripping at the folds until it parted with the popping of pearl buttons. The raking of her nails down his rippling abdomen sent chills up his spine and Draco greedily worked Isla's flimsy t-shirt overhead, leaving her to pant forcefully in a camisole, her erect nipples poking through the fabric. She arched her back, her compact breasts pressing against the thin material, begging to be touched by Draco.

His large hands cupped her soft breasts in both large palms, his thumbs expertly flicking her hardened nubs as Isla clawed at his broad shoulders. She bent her head to ravage his mouth once more and Draco smirked as her hunger encased his lips in a searing kiss. Pulling back to reach down for his belt buckle, Draco caught Isla's head in his palms, steadying her rapid movements in one action.

The look of utter despair swimming in the dark oceans of her eyes pulled the breath from his lungs. Draco halted Isla's frantic motions and stared hard in to the eyes of the woman he loved.

"Isla," he said painstakingly slow, "we can't do this now."

His sweaty forehead pressed against her own and Isla whimpered, still attempting to free his pants from their keeper, before hanging her head in shame. Warm tracks fell down her cheeks and Draco lovingly turned her head until his finger was under her chin keeping her looking at him. The salty tears ran down her face, no emotion showing on her features as Draco ran his silver eyes over every facial detail.

Fire crackling in the dim room, Isla sighed as she blinked rapidly, her gaze falling between their bodies, ashamed.

"You saw the memories then." She bluntly stated. "You know what I did. Now I know I'm a horrible person."

Draco shook her slightly, jerking her vision to look up remorsefully.

A hard look to his steely eyes, Draco braced her with thick hands. "You are not a horrible person, Isla Brandt. We all make mistakes. I will find a way to get you out of this. Do not worry about that, my love."

He held her head in his hands and gently leaned forward to place a soft kiss against her trembling mouth. "I will always take care of you, Isla." Placing another kiss to her lips, Draco tilted his head, his blonde hair falling in the wave of a curtain to tickle her neck and collarbone. His breath hot against her cheek, Draco whispered, "I love you," with such tenderness that Isla groaned happily.

"I love you Isla Brandt for every flaw and mistake you've ever had and will ever make. I love you for every stupid joke you tell and every curly hair on your head." He pressed a firm kiss to her temple, his thumbs running along her jaw, pausing to gain inflection for his coming words. "I love you. . . But I have to take you into hiding. You can't stay here now."

He pulled back to bend his head slightly to meet her reluctant gaze, seeing the hesitant acceptance bloom in her blue eyes.

Isla nodded imperceptibly, her long, black eyelashes resting against the apples of her cheeks as she dropped her gaze before speaking.

"I know." She admitted. "I knew after I killed Celia Presston that I would have to run if I ever wanted to find innocence for my actions. But what about you? Everyone will suspect you too, Draco, and come after you to get to me."

Chuckling shortly Draco let Isla's suddenly panicked stare take in his confident demeanor.

"I've already thought it through." He stated. "I'll take you to Malfoy Manor and hide you in one of our houses on the lake. No one will suspect a thing when I say that I have been tending to my dying father while you were gone on assignment. I will say I have not seen you because I have been by Lucius' bedside since your departure."

Momentarily stunned, Isla smiled unabashedly, genuine happiness pulling the corners of her lips up. "You've seen Lucius?" She asked incredulously.

Distracted, Draco nodded in confirmation.

"Yes, but that's beside the point. We will have to-"

"How is he?" Isla interrupted. "Was he glad to see you?"

Draco sighed, knowing the topic might as well be breached now before she exploded later with curiosity.

"Well he is currently immobile in his sumptuous bed as the life is sucked from him." The words came out harsher than he intended and Draco frowned as Isla huffed, looking miffed.

"He was ecstatic to see me." Draco tried again, his tone lighter. "The idiot doctors say his health has improved since I started coming around but every day becomes more unbearable for me as I watch him slowly deteriorate."

Isla groaned sympathetically, her heart jumping against her ribs for the wizard in front of her as he let his armor fall slightly.

"Oh Draco..." She breathed with sadness, a hand coming up to brush a lock of hair from his face before jumping backwards as she decided not to touch him.

"Don't worry about me, love," Draco said, forcing a smile. "It's you we have to make disappear before someone shows up with a warrant, looking for your murdering ass."

Isla laughed, her head bobbing side to side as she said, "Ha Ha Draco, very funny," sarcasm very obvious.

The pair fell silent. After this night everything would change. Everything had already changed for both Isla and Draco, though neither knew how immensely.

When his legs began to tingle from his awkward sitting position, Draco pushed Isla backwards just enough for her to realize that he wanted to stand. She scooted back, her knees resting on the carpet as Draco quickly stood and grasped her hands to pull her up. One long arm wrapped around her shoulders and moved her against his chest, Isla content to slowly inhale the musky scent of his spicy aftershave and natural scent.

"We'll leave in the morning," Draco murmured into her blonde head. "You can't go back to your apartment now. The Department is likely to have men surrounding the place should you be stupid enough to go back."

He felt her chin rub up and down his chest as she nodded, her messy curls tickling his neck.

"Where's your partner? Mercade." Draco asked distractedly, his cheek gliding along the top of her head.

Isla turned her head and sighed impatiently, her hand clutching the lapel of his shirt and curling into a fist. "I left him in a Muggle hotel in the middle of London. I had to _Imperius_ the girl at the front desk to get him the penthouse suite and comp the charges, marking down on the file that he was an international model looking to recuperate for a couple weeks with no interruptions. He was healed as best as I could do but we had to wait a couple days before he could travel. Oh, Draco!" Isla moaned. "I didn't know what to do! I thought he was going to die, he lost so much blood! He wasn't even conscious until a few hours before we left. And Thom had nothing to do with their murders!" She said vehemently, anger rising as her tears dried. "The bloody Unspeakables can watch those memories for all I care, Thom will not have any punishment for my crimes."

Draco twitched his lips as irritation for Isla's swarthy partner erupted. She cared too much for the man but she also swore that he was not her type and she was happily in love with her own unbearable git. That did not appease Draco's jealous desire to see the pair split up.

"Its okay now." He said begrudgingly. Her pain was his pain and Draco was not in the mood anymore to have to worry about a stupid wanker who couldn't perform his job properly. "He's fine, you're fine, and I'm going to prove you are not guilty of killing those two horrible people in cold murder. Understand?"

Isla shook her head once more, a yawn stopping her as she covered her mouth hastily. Draco felt her pause and a hearty chuckle rumbled his chest and stirred Isla's head.

"Let's go to bed and we'll figure the rest out in the morning."

Stepping back Draco held Isla's hand between them and grinned salaciously as he tugged her towards the king bed.

"Come on, love," he purred, his knees hitting the wooden frame of the bed as he sat on the plump mattress. "I want to sleep naked beside you. I want to hold you as you dream about what I'm going to do to you once we're locked in a safe house for a couple days." Draco trailed his fingers lightly up and down the seam of her arm, delightful shivers shaking her as Isla almost purred under his touch. "How I'm going to ravage your body until your throat is raw from screaming my name."

Grasping her hips firmly, Draco pulled Isla to lean against the mattress, his legs wrapping around the back of her calves to pull her forward. His calloused hands trailed up the round curve of her waist, drawing the thin, lacy camisole with their upwards movement until Draco's arms were reaching with Isla's hands to take the tank top over her head.

His hungry, silver eyes feasted on her exposed breasts and Draco rapidly leaned forward, opening his mouth, to suck the hardened nipple of her right breast between his lips before turning his head to lap at the opposing nipple. Isla dropped her head backwards, moaning gutturally as her hands worked through Draco's snowy mane. He moved from breast to breast, sucking and biting as Isla pressed herself further and further against his expert touch.

"Say my name." Draco whispered, his breath fanning the beaded sweat atop her chest. "Say my name, love," he sighed.

Isla groaned in ecstasy as his mouth returned to flick one nipple while his deft fingers pinched at the other. His grey eyes looked up to her face as Isla scrunched her forehead together as her urgent needs pooled higher in her belly.

"Oh Draco." Isla moaned, her fingers tugging at his hair as he worked over her breasts. "Draco. I need you. I need you now."

He removed his practiced lips from her chest and stole a glance at the wanton desire evident in her sapphire eyes. Pulling her bare chest against his own muscled physique, Draco captured Isla's lips savagely as his nimble fingers worked between their bodies to remove the remainder of her clothing than his own with an errant, distracting thought and the flick of his hand.

Isla moaned with satisfaction as their naked bodies clashed. Draco held her against his chest as his hands gripped her ass, his mouth keeping her lips very entertained, and he leaned backwards on the mattress until Isla was lying on top of him, her legs semi straddling his hips.

With a thrust of his narrow pelvis, Draco pressed his hard cock against her thighs as he vaulted his body in an arc to turn Isla onto her back as he hovered above her. Isla licked her lips, tempting Draco as she bit down on her bottom lip as it rolled past her teeth. He grinned, his sexy sneer exciting Isla as Draco lunged down to ensnare your mouth once more.

As his large hands traveled south, adjusting Isla's hips as he moved to enter her, all thoughts of death and despair fled Draco and Isla's thoughts. Their hasty reunion would be over when the sun came up, throwing them forward into events that would alter everything. All they had was this night, and Draco would be damned if he didn't get to leave his mark on Isla for her to remember his caressing touch when they were apart.

Tomorrow they would start down a dangerous path. But tonight, their bodies melted together and all the cares of the outside world were forgotten.

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**A/N: Don't hate me if I left off before you wanted to finish reading. This one was kind of on the short side but I see it more of a filler chapter until the good shit starts happening soon. Much more to come, just wait for it and the best results will happen when you least expect. **

**Please, please review if ya like it. Your feedback means the world to me. **


	4. And Baby Makes  Four?

****Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure. ****

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**A/N: If you have read the first three chapters of the story previously, PLEASE go back and reread the dream sequence at the end of the first chapter. I revised some paragraphs and added some information that will be pertinent to know BEFORE reading this chapter. If you do not, you will probably be left wondering at how Draco knows what he does by the finishing scene. **

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**Chapter Four – And Baby Makes Four?**

A month had almost crawled by since Draco had stumbled upon Isla waiting for him in the dark of the night. The next morning they had thrown what little belongings she kept at his home in a small bag, removing all physical evidence of her presence there before casting a _Scourgify_ charm over the entire lot. Her magical signature would still be traceable there but that was the most any Auror or Unspeakable would be able to report.

Sure enough, a week after Draco had settled Isla in the small lakefront house, placing protective and concealment wards overhead, and after the very public funerals for the Presston children, Draco received a warning owl from a source in the Auror department that investigators would be contacting him shortly. He shuffled his paperwork together, stowing the items in a desk drawer, before straightening his workspace and hurrying to exit the small office. The cottage appeared orderly, neat but still cluttered with random items, when he arrived, dusting errant soot from his robes from the Floo, and Draco hastily glanced in every room to make sure everything looked used and lived in. The men were minutes behind him and Draco barely had time to whisk a pot on the stove to boil water for tea before there was a sturdy knock at his door. Eagerly opening the carved wooden fixture, Draco beamed as the two men in dark robes, gleaming golden Auror badges pinned to their chests, as they scowled appropriately.

"Mr. Draco Malfoy?" The gray haired wizard on his left asked.

"At your service." He responded, a smile and his chipper voice drawing together the thick eyebrows of both men. "What can I help you with today, gentlemen?"

His heavyset partner mumbled a few sentences, his accent too thick for Draco to understand. Draco glanced to the older man questionably as he huffed, irritation causing his jaw to clench and the muscles on his neck to tick.

"We're here to ask you some questions concerning the murders of Miss Celia Presston and Mister..." He glanced down at a notepad that mysteriously appeared, double checking his words before meeting Draco's steely gaze and continuing with his words. "Mister Henry Presston."

Dramatically Draco lifted his arms to cross over his taut chest before one hand rose to grasp his chin firmly as he looked off, appearing to focus his concentration.

"Oh right. The children of Duke Presston." He shook his blonde head sadly, tsking with his tongue. "They were found horribly murdered on the coast somewhere if I remember right. The news has been all over the papers, as I'm sure you've seen."

The Aurors shared a skeptical glance, the Scottish bloke shaking his head in hesitation before his partner appraised Draco once more.

"Yes, we are aware," He confirmed briskly.

Draco pursed his lips, snaking them in a circle as he seemed baffled, his darker eyebrows peaking in confusion as he straightened his stance and pushed back his broad shoulders.

"What does this have to do with me then?"

Now the men mumbled and grumbled once more, somewhat convinced that they should be mistaken for barging into Draco Malfoy's home.

"There is evidence that Isla Brandt and Thom Mercade were involved with their deaths. Since you and Miss Brandt are . . . . involved, you are on top of the list of persons to question." The older man finished speaking, his voice trailing with a quivering finish, and leaned back suddenly as Draco peered at the name on his tiny badge.

"That is true, Officer Thompskin." Draco stated sarcastically, his patience running thin as these two bumbling Aurors became more intimidated by him every second. "But I have not seen Isla since before she left for a business trip almost four weeks ago. She has not contacted me. I do not assume she would take that risk with our line of work. You may have a look around if you wish," Draco implored, stepping backwards to sweep an arm out to display the interior of his home, a tight smile conveying a challenge as he finished. "But as I said, Isla has not been here for over a month and I assure you, any interrogation you put me through would prove the same."

The nervous Aurors glanced at one another again, sweat beading on the lined forehead of the thickset man. Thompskin seemed to realize though that they would not receive a second invitation and moved forward to step over the threshold of the door. His partner followed suit, stepping sideways to move past Draco with a curt nod.

As assumed, the Aurors did not find a stitch of anything that could place Isla there. Draco was not sure if they were looking for anything in particular but he had to remove the pair from his office when he noticed they were purposefully dawdling in his private space. They left within an hour, promising to contact Draco if any more information became available.

Slamming the door a bit too fast behind their exiting backs, Draco bolted the numerous locks before moving about the house to place a time charm on the lights so they would dim and turn off at the appropriate times in case anyone was watching the movements of his house. Retrieving a fresh pair of clothes and stuffing them in a small leather bag, Draco hurried to the main fireplace to grab a handful of Floo powder. He ducked under the mantle and before he was finished moving, Draco threw the powder to his feet, yelling 'Malfoy Manor!' as the magic took him from the spot.

A fortnight after that incident, another pair of Aurors showed up unannounced at the gates of Malfoy Manor. The younger men were escorted to the front doors and upon dropping the heavy knocker against the metal orifice, both were greatly surprised to see Draco when they opened fully. They spouted the same spiel, haughtily suggesting that Draco allow them to search the entire Manor.

His temper completely spent, Draco stepped over the entry and shut the large doors behind him with a deafening bang. The Aurors stepped backwards as Draco threateningly reached for his wand, anger bubbling on the surface of his handsome features. Apparently unaware of his position as an Unspeakable, the men brandished their wands and threatened to arrest Draco if he did not cooperate.

Laughing mercilessly at their ignorant excuses Draco warned that if they did not have any papers, they were not coming inside.

"My father is on his deathbed right now and I do **not **think he would appreciate two Auror buffoons rummaging through his personal belongings as he slowly passes. You have no justifiable cause to search the Malfoy estates. Now I suggest that you take your pathetic asses back to the Ministry and tell Granger that unless she wants my lawyers visiting her office first thing the next morning, she better send you with a warrant the next time you step foot on this property again."

He then waved his hand in a small arc, pressing outwards as the two Aurors were pulled off their feet to land on the gravel next to the wrought iron gates. They stood up, glaring back at Draco as he waved pleasantly. When the pair walked through the gates, Draco turned on his heel, shoving open the tall doors to hurry inside.

Fuming, Draco took the marble stairs two at a time as he strode through the large Manor to the second floor of his father's wing. The ancient carpet that ran down the middle of the wide hallway muffled his hurried footsteps as Draco weaved through the various rooms to reach Lucius. Throwing open the correct door, Draco swiveled his head back and forth to survey the bedroom, his shoulder length blonde hair swinging with his movements.

Lucius slowly opened his eyes as Draco walked about the room, his cloudy steel eyes moving with his son's steps. He watched as Draco pressed against a window frame, drawing back the thick curtain to peer out the window to the front lawn. Lucius coughed feebly and Draco twitched as he kept his sights on the visions through the glass.

"Draco, my son." Lucius rasped, drawing Draco's attention from the outside world to let the fabric fall from his grasp as he turned to face his father. "What is worrying you?"

Draco exhaled loudly, his blonde head dropping as a long-fingered hand ran through his hair. Slowly he paced to stand beside the large bed, his gaze falling on a small scar running across Lucius' cheek as he thought about the multitude of answers that would be appropriate to that question. Most of which were not reasonable for Lucius to hear.

"You." Draco finally said. "You worry me, father. And work. And everything else that seems to seep its way into my life."

Lucius chuckled as best he could, the small trace of a smile blossoming as he nodded imperceptively at Draco's honest words.

"Maybe you should find a nice, young witch to settle down with and you wouldn't be worrying so much about . . . . about everything else." The mirth was sparkling in his eyes as Lucius heaved through the short sentences, his breathing labored as he finished speaking.

Now it was Draco's turn to chuckle as he remembered the various other times his father, and his mother as well before her early passing, had preached to him about finding a wife. Never content to let him find his own way, Lucius and Narcissa had shoved Draco at Pansy Parkinson through his childhood in the hopes that they would form a friendship that would evolve into a marriage. When Pansy became everything that Draco loathed about in a woman, he purposefully made his disgust and intentions known. His protests went unheard as Narcissa schemed with Pansy's mother, Scarlette, to match their children.

Even now, Draco knew the words would not be far coming and another round of near silent chuckles erupted when Lucius spoke once more.

"What ever happened to that Parkinson girl? Do you still speak to her, Draco?" Lucius questioned.

"No, father." He responded with a loving laugh. "Pansy is married. She has her own worries."

Lucius frowned. Draco was unreasonably hard headed when it came to taking advice from anyone else and even in the five years they did not see each other, Lucius knew his son had not changed.

"You won't be young forever, Draco. And with youth goes beauty. If you wait too long, my son, you will miss your chance for love."

Suddenly somber Draco nodded in understanding, a cool hand reaching across the bed to grasp his father's wax like grip.

"I know, father. Do not worry about me right now." Squeezing effectively, Draco smiled what he hoped was reassuringly. "I have to go work on some files in the library. If you need anything, summon Mopsey and the little elf will come find me."

Draco leaned forward, one hand holding his weight as he bent to place a soft kiss to Lucius' temple, his father's cold skin papery beneath his lips. Turning to pull the bedroom door shut behind him, Draco glanced back at Lucius lying in bed, his once strong and robust body now frail and weak. His heart hammered painfully at the sad sight but Draco swallowed the great ball of emotions and securely returned the door to its closed position as he released the wooden handle, turning to stride to his next destination.

Draco had immediately rushed downstairs and outside to Apparate to the very far edge of the Malfoy estate to arrive soundly in front of the lake house door. Isla had immediately worried about her presence at the Manor with Lucius so ill. She argued that she would leave. She said she did not want to jeopardize the safety of anyone else with her fugitive status. Draco vehemently denied her requests, furiously screaming about the sacrifices he was making to keep her protected until he figured out the best course of action.

Storming out of the small house, Draco erected protections to keep Isla from leaving the building. If she tried she would be zapped backwards, a thorough bruise more than likely forming after many attempts at escape.

That had been over a week ago now and while there was no sign of the Auror's return, Isla had also not seen Draco since his rushed exit after their disagreement. Seven whole days of being trapped inside a house on a private estate where she could not enjoy any of the amenities of her surroundings.

Not that she would have chosen to partake in any frivolous activities while she was actively being pursued by the wizarding law enforcement. There were much more important tasks ahead of her.

Namely, figuring out the purpose and use of the pendant of Ophelia.

Since Draco had never asked what it was that she and Thom had been searching for at the dollhouse by the sea, she did not feel the need to tell him that she had, in fact, found the necklace over the course of the few days it had taken for Thom to heal.

With her partner unconscious in the living room, Isla had wandered the house to properly investigate in lieu of wasting time waiting. After hours and hours of finding nothing, the idea struck her that maybe the item had been transfigured so it would not be found so easily. That thought in mind, Isla spent a full day scouring every room top to bottom, absently casting revealing charms on every item she saw.

Isla had almost given up on her errant idea when the small, hand crafted mirror on the vanity in one of the guest bathrooms glowed a faint blue after she reluctantly cast the spell. The silver mirror hovered above the glass table, trembling slightly before the rounded item morphed into a short, thick gold chain and a heavy pendant. The necklace fell to the table with a loud clank and Isla rushed to pick up the cursed item that had already cost too many lives, the cool metal vibrating with magic under her touch .

_It is rather simple for the great clamor surrounding it's existence, _Isla thought. The jewel itself was a large stone sized dark amethyst. It shone a brilliant deep purple that seized Isla's attention and caused her fingers to lightly trace the edges of the stone. Cut into a perfect oval, the gem was surrounded by tiny gold leaves that licked up the sides of the pendant. The small etchings and details drew the necklace closer to Isla's blue eyes and she marveled at the complexity of its making. Life seemed to pulse within the necklace and Isla hastily pocketed the sought after necklace before turning to exit the room.

Since the beginning of her forced imprisonment, Isla had taken to retrieving the necklace on a daily basis. There were no obvious signs as to what the pendant actually did, nor were there any historical accounts that could accurately describe the effects of the gem. Nothing affected the stone, even the most destructive hex exploded the vicinity but left the necklace unaffected. Isla grew tired of trying to figure it out while lacking any and all resources so she loosened the chain and strung it around her neck, the cold metal surrounding the gem resting between her breasts.

It was all she could do to keep herself from going crazy until Draco decided to show back up to retrieve her. Even the small garden behind the kitchen door was off limits to her and Isla would sit for hours at the windows, watching and waiting for something to happen.

If she had not known she was on the Malfoy estate, there were zero indicators to tell her otherwise. At night she could see a distant plume of smoke rising in the direction of where she assumed the house stood. A house elf would deliver her meals at the appropriate times throughout the day but even then, Isla had to hurry to the kitchens to catch a glimpse of another living being.

She was extremely bored on one day of her last days there and stood waiting behind a pantry door for the small elf to appear with food. Almost giving up to come out from her hiding spot, Isla jumped when the small pop of Apparation indicated the arrival of an elf. Poking open the slight door, Isla peeked through the opening as a two-foot tall creature bustled about the small kitchen, setting a place for Isla at the dining table before revealing a covered dish. Just as the elf was reaching for and lifting the lid off the plate, Isla threw open the door, dramatically jumping to stand between the elf and exiting kitchen door.

The house elf squeaked, its large ears trembling as Isla steadily approached, backing it into a corner with her wand pointed at the creature's disproportionate face.

"Mopsey is very sorry, misses. Mopsey was not supposed to disturb yous."

Fear plainly written on the scared elf's features, Mopsey turned around, grabbing the edges of a wooden cabinet to repeatedly hit her head on the wall. Isla stashed her wand, rushing to grip the elf's head as she halted her destructive actions.

"No! Stop!" Isla called, jerking Mopsey as the little elf pried at her fingers to allow her to cause herself the pain. "Stop it now or I'll tell Draco of your disobedience."

Immediately Mopsey fearfully glanced at Isla, the dirty dishtowel wrapped around her skin and bones body twisting. Her large green eyes expanded even further as she fell to her knees, clutching the thin fabric of Isla's skirt with knobby fingers.

"Oh please no! Master Draco must not know what I have done!" Mopsey cried.

Isla dropped to her knees, the cold stone floor scraping painfully as she scooted closer to Mopsey, leaning back to sit on her tucked legs so she was eye level with the tiny elf. Mopsey whimpered, cowering as Isla attempted to reach out and touch her.

"I won't tell Master Draco that I saw you, if you tell me where Master Draco has been," Isla offered, dropping her voice as to not sound threatening to the elf.

Mopsey squeaked, her spidery fingers wringing nervously in front of her as she shortly contemplated the options Isla was presenting.

"I mustn't!" The elf insisted, her large eyes imploring Isla to just let her leave and be done with it.

"Yes, Mopsey." Isla confirmed, nodding her head sympathetically to encourage the elf. "Tell me Mopsey and Master Draco will never find out." The elf still relented, pulling her head forward to slam it backwards against the stone wall. The sickening thud that resounded jerked Isla to Mopsey as she once more held the struggling elf's head in her hands to prevent self damage.

She seemed to fear Draco's wrath from Isla knowing his going on's rather than he know that Isla had seen Mopsey when she was under strict orders to be invisible. Moreover, Mopsey feared the wrath of the other house elves should she take too long with her task. Impatience seemed to work the gears of her thinking and Mopsey sputtered a quick reply.

"Master Draco has been attending to Master Lucius every day. He leaves during the day sometimes but he stays up late in the library with many, many books. That is all Mopsey knows, Misses."

The elf whimpered as Isla leaned back, her gaze becoming unfocused as her thoughts ran wild. She did not see Mopsey slip past her to hurry away, the small pop of Apparation unheard as Isla was carried away by her rising emotions.

_Draco has been here this whole time._ Isla thought, bemoaning her solidarity. _Why hasn't he come to see me? What's he doing that's keeping him so busy that he can't find me on his own property? _

Hot tears brimmed in front of her ocean eyes, her vision blurring as Isla thought through the worst possible scenarios.

Draco would come to get her but he would bring Aurors with him to take her away . . . .

Draco would leave her alone in the small house for the rest of her life until she died. Forgotten by the man who swore to protect her . . . .

Most terrifying was the prospect that Draco would return to remove her from the estate and force her out on her own.

Isla slowly stood, grabbing the ruffles of her black skirt to fist them angrily as she walked from the kitchen. Walking up the short staircase to reach the sole bedroom, Isla decided it would be best if she packed up her belongings now. She had attempted to leave during her lonesome days but now she had incentive to escape and her ambitions would not be destroyed simply because Draco wished to keep her locked up like a child.

It might not be today, it might not be tomorrow, but when Draco came to visit Isla, she would be ready to bolt through the temporarily relaxed containment wards to sprint to the limited freedom she would have to survive in.

Working in overdrive to gather her scattered possessions, Isla ran past the bedroom window just as Draco was Apparating to the front yard, waving his hand to dispel the wards. She was hurrying to assemble her toiletries when the front door opened and rattled the picture frames in the bedroom as it shut. Isla was so caught up in organizing her belongings that she yelped, jumping in surprise when she turned around to find Draco standing in the door frame.

"What are you doing?" He asked irritably, his arms crossing over his chest as he straightened his stance to fill the entire doorway.

Isla narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips as she distractedly grabbed a t-shirt to refold, turning back to face her open bag on the bed.

"What I should have done weeks ago."

"And what exactly would that be?" Draco asked, tension rising in his voice as he closely watched Isla's frenzied movements.

Moving her head to glare at Draco, Isla forcefully shoved the shirt on top of the thrown together bag, cursing her luck that he had shown up with perfect timing to thwart her escape.

"Getting the hell out of here."

Draco laughed, the fake sound barking across the small space as he dropped his arms, taking large strides to stand beside Isla, his hand moving to jerk her fingers from their rash actions. She fought him as Draco worked to pry her fingers away from the items, forcibly shaking when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to him.

The molten silver of his eyes was almost aflame and Isla saw the dire frustration etched into the lines and creases around his face. His long hair was tied back in a leather strap, errant wisps of blonde hair falling around his face as the small ponytail of thick hair bobbed behind his face as he spoke.

"And what? Getting away from me? Or are you that desperately guilty that you _want_ to be thrown in Azkaban?" Draco inched closer until the small drops of spit flying off his tongue at his heated words landed daftly on Isla's heated cheeks. "Because those Aurors are waiting for you. They're begging you to make a mistake and get caught, Isla. I can't go a damn day walking into the Ministry without at least one dark robed asshole questioning me about your whereabouts."

Isla shrugged, still trying to get free of his grasp. "And why would you still be going to work? I'm sure the library at the Manor has more than adequate space and books for you to get the job done." Draco narrowed his grey eyes in suspicion at her words but Isla continued on, an angry comment ready to burst forth from her sharp lips. "Even better, now that you and daddy are back on speaking terms, why work at all?"

She knew she had crossed a line but Isla smirked anyways, her words hitting home as Draco suddenly released her and stepped backwards. His eyebrows rose in disbelief and Isla regrettably dropped the smile smearing her face as Draco shook his head in shock. He glanced at her, giving her a confusing once-over before shaking his head in disbelief and turning to walk out the door.

"Draco!" Isla called worriedly, her light patter of footsteps following him down the stairs as she rushed after him.

"Draco!"

But he made no indication that he heard her. Draco kept walking, moving through the compact first floor to enter the kitchen and open the side door leading to the private gardens. Isla bounded through the house, calling his name louder as she popped a head into each room when no response was made.

_How do I always manage to fuck everything up with the words I say?_ Isla thought pitifully, her blue eyes bulging as she tore into the kitchen, screaming Draco's name once more. _All Draco's doing is trying to help me and all I can think about is getting as far away from him as possible. How horrible am I? _

A frustrated groan rumbled through her chest as Isla desperately wished Draco had not left. A soft unfamiliar breeze wrapped around her bare ankle and Isla turned to see the outside door barely ajar, a ray of agonizing sunlight pouring across the floor in a beam of light. Pushing her fingers in the small gap, Isla hurled open the door as she squinted in the day's brightness, a hand coming up to shade her eyes as her mouth opened to shout for Draco once more.

The name died on her tongue though as Isla recognized Draco's outline sitting across the garden on a white stone bench, the heavy shade of an oak tree making him almost indiscernible as he sat with his back to the small house. Isla hesitantly maneuvered across the grassy area, glancing at the numerous rose bushes lining the high stone wall and the rows of various herbs growing in the center.

"This was my mother's favorite place on the whole of Malfoy estate." Draco said sadly, not bothering to turn to look at Isla as she approached the bench from behind. "She loved coming out here to tend to the gardens, to clean and maintain the lake house when the regular boredom of the Manor became too much. Mother would have lived here year round if Father had not thought it ludicrous."

Isla softly perched on the edge of the seat, reaching a hand out to comfort Draco only to pull it back when she realized she should be apologizing, not consoling.

"I thought you would enjoy the peace as much as she did. I didn't mean to trap you within the house itself."

Draco nodded once, craning his neck to glance at Isla. "I'm sorry for my actions." Draco admitted, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Isla as she exhaled heavily, sighing regrettably. She scooted closer on the short bench, her hand firmly closing around Draco's forearm as she met his gaze, silently imploring him with her own guilt.

"No, Draco, you have nothing to apologize for." Isla whispered meekly. "I was being irrational, thinking you had forgotten about me."

Draco sharply turned to stare at Isla, a strong hand cupping her jaw as his blonde eyebrows furrowed, his thumb gently rubbing Isla's cheekbone as he carelessly laughed.

"I could never leave you, my love. Don't be a fool, I love you too much. Why else would I keep you hidden when your life has a higher bounty on it than Harry Potter when Voldemort was scouring Hogwarts looking to kill him. Silly girl."

Draco stated, adoration and longing causing the grey in his eyes to shrink as his pupils expanded. Isla closed her eyes, acceptance blanketing her as she pushed herself further into Draco's heated touch.

"Thank you, Draco." Isla finally whispered, her ocean eyes opening to fat, salty tears as a small grin turned up the corners of her lips. "For everything."

"Don't thank me just yet," Draco chuckled, his hand falling off her face to wrap around her shoulders as he pulled Isla to his side. "We still have to find your innocence."

Isla giggled, the rocking sensation comforting her as she leaned her head back on Draco's shoulder, tilting it to look up at him.

"My innocence, good sir?" She teased. "I was quite sure you had stolen that many years ago."

A sly look crept over his face and Draco smirked in return, his grin as big as the Cheshire cat's as he squeezed Isla's shoulder.

"That particular event is a bit hazy to me. Maybe you should jog my memory." Draco responded salaciously, his voice dropping several octaves as Isla shivered under his warmth.

The pair was cuddling up, closely ready to undress right there in the gardens when the pop of Apparation alerted the lovebirds to the presence of company. Draco pulled his blonde head from Isla's neck, deeply scowling as he looked to the ajar kitchen door for their intruder to show themselves. He sighed frustratedly when Mopsey's pointy nose poked around the open door, her large head timidly following as she visually located Draco. Isla turned to look at who it was that was causing Draco to so quickly become impatient when his head dropped to her shoulder, grunting irritably as she dismissed his temper.

Mopsey visibly trembled when Isla's eyes fell on her, the elf's small steps halting as Isla smiled reassuringly to let the creature know she didn't mean any harm. Hands grasped behind her back, Mopsey continued forward until she was standing just before Draco and Isla.

"Master Draco," Mopsey stumbled. "There's an owl here for you."

Draco lifted his head to arrogantly sneer at the elf, his silver gaze causing Mopsey to flinch at the sudden attention.

"It won't, it won't leave until you send a response, Master Draco," the quivering elf hastily added as Isla saw the scathing retort form on Draco's lips.

Mopsey hurriedly jerked her hands forward, bringing them around her body to reveal a crumpled parchment gripped tightly in her long fingers. His eyebrows rose with impatience, his exhale a loud huff as Draco removed his arms from around Isla to reach for the letter.

"Well, give it here then," He said impatiently.

Mopsey pitched forward, the parchment trembling as Draco jerked it from her grasp. He quickly unfolded the paper, his grey eyes scrunching in concentration as he read the hand written words. Just as rapidly, Draco reformed the paper, tucking it away as he finished reading the short message.

Isla noticed heavy irritation and a slight edge of panic to his eyes when Draco glanced at her before returning his gaze to Mopsey.

"Send a confirmation with the owl," was all he said before Mopsey nodded once, snapping her fingers to Apparate back to the Manor.

"What was that about?" Isla questioned, her tone skeptical as Draco stretched his long legs, firmly planting them before standing to his full height. He shoved a hand into his pockets and shook his head distractedly, glancing at Isla as he offered her his other hand.

"Just Blaise reminding me that I promised to attend a Ministry fundraiser tonight." He paused to stare hard at her, his grey eyes roving over every detail of her face. "I'm glad you were packing when I got here. I have made arrangements for us to leave tomorrow, to travel to Northern Scotland. There is another estate there where you will be safe until this mess blows over. The Aurors will surely have a warrant any day now to search the Manor and it would not work in our favor to have you found during their snooping."

Draco rambled on, guiding Isla back inside, shutting and locking the door behind them as he moved to walk to the front of the house to exit. When he did open the front door, readying to leave for the purpose of this mysterious letter, Draco turned to pull Isla in tightly, pressing a searing kiss to her lips.

"Be ready to leave in the morning, my love."

Isla nodded dejectedly. With the turning of his back and the swirl of his robes, Isla watched Draco leave, the clenching of her heart giving her enough reason to know that Draco was lying, his intended destination as much of a mystery to her as the reasoning behind his sudden mood change with the arrival of that damned owl.

**.**

Draco shrugged off his cloak as he entered the dimly lit, upscale restaurant, aptly titled Merlin's Beard. He had frequented the small eatery tucked away in a remote corner of Diagon Alley with Narcissa whenever they had visited the district for school supplies, too many years ago for him to count. It had been many years since he had last walked through the nondescript door but the place still looked the same, the maitre-de still looked up excitedly when they recognized his blonde head.

"Mr. Malfoy, so good to see you again." The dark haired witch greeted him. "Your dinner guest is already here, she is waiting for you in a private booth."

Draco nodded dismissively, walking forward as the witch hurried to lead him through the restaurant to his table.

He felt the horrible guilt weighing on him for lying to Isla about where he was going but Draco was more nervously concerned about the intentions of this unexpected meeting than breaking the already fragile trust of his girlfriend. The hostess led him to a secluded corner, turning to smile pleasantly at him only to drop her forced grin when Draco scowled at the empty chair she gestured to. Without glancing at the witch sitting, waiting for him, Draco glared at the hostess, his eyebrows raising in irritation as he asked rudely, "Is there anything else?"

The witch shook her head rapidly, fear erupting as she scurried away.

Draco tore the wooden chair from underneath the table and plopped down with a thick sigh. His hands folded casually on the table before Draco lazily regarded the woman before him.

"Greengrass. What do I owe the pleasure?" Draco drawled, eying the blonde witch before him. His most recent memories of her were clearly cloudy, alcohol still removing the most basic pieces of the puzzle.

"Hello Draco." Astoria responded, her voice a light tinkling in the dark room, a tight smile pulling at her red lips. "I'm glad to see you could make it."

He grunted, rolling his eyes. "As if I had a choice. What is so urgent that you could not wait until, say, tomorrow?"

Astoria's reply was cut off as a tuxedo-ed waiter approached the small table, a linen wrapped bottle of wine ready to display as the man grinned, cocky as he opened his mouth to introduce himself and the menu. His pre-planned speech was rejected as Draco waved away the wine, arrogant in his actions.

"Save it. Just bring me a Firewhiskey and the lady a vodka with soda water and lime."

"Just water for me," Astoria interrupted earning a dubious stare from Draco.

The waiter bristled, turning up his nose and haughtily stalking off to retrieve their drinks as Draco peered closer at Astoria. He did not speak but stared at the blonde witch until she glanced away, nerves growing under his scrutinizing look. She knotted the cloth napkin in her lap, fidgeting as Draco continued to watch her movements.

With nothing else to do and nowhere else to look, Astoria finally turned her gaze upwards, resolutely meeting Draco's silver eyes as she sighed irritably.

"Draco, I'm pregnant."

The words hit him like a hammer to the chest and Draco knocked backwards against his chair, his eyes wide in surprised disbelief. Those three little words echoed in his head, his rational thoughts only resurfacing when the waiter arrived back at their table with their respective drinks. Picking up the glass and drowning the bitter contents in one gulp, Draco signaled for a second, his mind already swirling faster than it had last time he had seen Astoria Greengrass.

**.**

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**A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading! Originally planned as a bullshit, filler chapter, I had to change the order of events to make the next chapter's content the main focal point of the update. Things will now, obviously, pick up speed and the main, much bigger, plot conflict will be revealed in the next chapter. **

**Like I said at the beginning of this chapter, please reread the previous chapters for revisions. It also won't hurt you since I am constantly editing the chapters I already have posted.**


	5. Oh The Places You'll Go

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the Harry Potter universe. The OC's are my own, but besides that, all else belongs to JK Rowling. Much gratitude to her for the creations of such beautifully magical characters and places. **

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**Chapter Five - Oh The Places You'll Go **

Draco could not force himself to return to Malfoy Manor that night. After staring at Astoria in disbelief, the blonde witch easily agitated at his ludicrous questioning as to whether the child was his, Draco had blindly left the restaurant. Astoria wanted to keep the baby and he knew he was in no position to tell her otherwise considering the circumstances surrounding the conception. Draco had returned home to his dusty cottage in the hopes that he could erase his growing problem from his mind, in the hopes that he could ignore the expanding heap of guilt, anxiety, and fear that had taken residence in his gut since six weeks prior.

But everything he saw reminded him of Isla. The arrangement of magicked flowers on the kitchen table reminded him of the long, sweaty days they had spent in his bed, Draco always waking Isla by tucking a blossoming flower behind her ear. She would giggle, bashfully retrieving the fresh flower to inhale the sweet scent of spring. The shelves of books in his library sparked a memory of a silly fight they had over how to organize and arrange various ancient tomes. He had reluctantly let her have her way, despite the fact that it was_ his_ library.

After Draco decided he had not finished his alcohol consumption for the horrendous day, he appropriately carried an emptying bottle of Firewhiskey around the house. His wobbling steps allowed him to lose balance and careen into a glass table, an arm pushing out to catch his falling weight only to smash through the invisible barrier as glass shards ripped into Draco's palms, blood instantly running from the many small cuts. The bottle of Firewhiskey tipped over, spilling precious alcohol into the thick carpet, and Draco angrily extracted his arm from the table before jerking upright to furiously throw the small table against the wall. His temper somewhat abated, Draco lunged for the next closet piece of furniture, an antique floor lamp that hissed as the ornate glass dome shattered against the floor. Draco continued around the living room before moving into the kitchen, randomly seizing and vaulting items onto the floor or against a wall as his self-loathing erupted.

When there was nothing left for Draco to physically lift and destroy or dismantle, he drew back a clenched fist to punch the plastered walls. The holes inched him closer to his own drunken retribution and Draco did not pause when his knuckles bleed down to the bone, skin flayed off or hanging in chunks by threads. He simply tore a dish towel in strips, wrapping the makeshift bandages around his hands until they were covered once more and ready to hit something else. Draco dramatically stumbled through the small house, his shoulders angrily knocking the door frames as he cursed every action he had ever made. His belongings were strewn everywhere, the floors littered with broken picture frames and torn books, and Draco kicked errant items as he worked his way to the large bedroom at the back of the house.

Unfortunately his tirade had tornadoed through every room and although still very emotionally charged, Draco paused when he hazily saw the damage done to his chambers. He had ripped the emerald bed curtains from their rods in the fit of anger, the torn fabric hanging sadly off the metal poles of the bed frame. Several pillows were slashed, hundreds of tiny goose down feathers covering the usually black carpet. The love seat by the fireplace that he had found Isla on merely four weeks ago was overturned, the matching arm chair split down the middle with either piece splayed open. Clothes were thrown about, the towels and rugs from the bathroom somehow singed through.

Draco ambled through the wreckage, his silver eyes blankly peering at every item he passed or stepped over. He walked to the far side of the room, unintentionally moving to lay down on Isla's side of the bed as he haphazardly yanked his shirt over his blonde head, hair mussing as he threw it to the floor with the beginning piles of trash. Draco was two steps from falling backwards across the amazingly still intact duvet comforter when the brilliant reflection of the moon on a large shard of glass caught his attention. The sharp piece was still attached to a battered picture frame and Draco absently reached to examine the image, his bloody fingers holding the frame together at the injured points.

The wizarding photograph behind the cracked glass renewed the bubble of heady emotions the Firewhiskey had managed to temporarily drown and Draco swayed on the spot before his legs collapsed and he crumbled to the floor in an agitated mess. Still gripping the frame, Draco sighed heavily as his shoulders leaned back against the mattresses, his exhale echoing sadly as one long finger traced the moving image of Isla in the picture.

The image had been stealthily taken by one of Isla's coworkers, a female assistant of some sorts that had insisted the couple needed photos together when she nosily learned the pair had no visual remembrances of their relationship. Somehow the witch had managed to capture Draco and Isla sitting alone in a cafe courtyard, intimately laughing as they spoke closely. The happiness radiating off Isla was the kind only visible when someone does not know they're being watched and even the drunken Draco could see the adoration focused on the blonde witch as his picture self shyly gazed at the picture Isla. The wizarding photo had been taken over two years ago, just after their relationship had gone public, and still the budding love they had tried so hard to hide was evident in the repeated actions of Draco and Isla.

His shoulders and chest heaving with labored breathing, Draco chucked the broken picture frame across the disastrous room, groaning frustratedly when the item simply plopped to the floor with a soft thud. The rage flowed through his open mouth and Draco screamed, his throaty groan rising in pitch as he bemoaned his ill fortune. The cloud of emotions was threatening to break him into sobs and Draco fisted his long hair, clutching at the strands as if pulling them from his head would solve all his problems. His head dropped as his elbows rested on his bent knees and Draco stared at the carpet, dizziness warping his still vision.

Of all the colossal mistakes he had made over his short twenty four years, Draco already most deeply regretted his decision to allow his evil nature to come rear its ugly head to spite Isla. He thought he could sink no further than attempting to kill the beloved Albus Dumbledore under the misguided orders of Voldemort but he had been wrong. That was before he had known the kindness and all-encompassing blanket of love. Before Draco had realized what it meant to care about someone other than himself.

And now he had royally fucked up any redeeming chance of securing Isla's heart.

Draco knew what the right thing to do was but he also knew that would cost him his own, and Isla's, happiness.

_The right choice is not always the easiest path,_ Draco thought ironically. _Well that very well fits this situation. _

Alcohol and guilt tore at his heart as Draco lifted his arms backwards, placing them on the edge of the mattress as he hauled himself up from the floor. His hands racked over his face with frustration, a delirious laugh pulling from his lips as Draco thought about the irony of his recent admission of love to Isla.

_Oh yea honey I love you, but I'm having a child out of wedlock with an old classmate who, if I remember correctly, made your life a living hell at Hogwarts. _

The sarcastically fake conversation died on his mind and Draco growled in anger, falling backwards onto the bed to stare listlessly at the vaulted ceiling of his bedroom. His silver eyes slid shut and while his thoughts swirled with images and the voices of Isla and Astoria, her three word declaration echoing rather loudly, his mind began to drift off and in a matter of moments, sleep covered Draco as a restless cycle of contorted and confusing dreams looped in his unconsciousness.

The next morning, he felt like he had been hit by a train. But after a strong cup of black coffee and a mind numbingly cold shower, Draco was dressed in pressed slate slacks and a crisp black button down, preparing a quick breakfast, mentally planning the very long and differing events of his day. Draco Malfoy was no stranger to cold hearted emotions and as this day would prove, he was a master of deception.

The Ministry of Magic was bustling at the peak morning hour of nine o'clock. Draco easily passed through the large Floo fireplace, falling in with the flow of witches and wizards walking into the Atrium. He glanced at the large marble statue in the middle of the great lobby, immensely thankful to not have to stare at the hideous artwork Voldemort had installed during his reign. Only a handful of minutes late for his immediate, impromptu meeting, Draco casually glided through the crowds of people until he found the familiar face he was looking for. Smiling forcefully, hands shoved deep in his pockets, Draco motioned the way to the lifts as he willfully chose to alter the course of his life.

**.**

The long, warm day had slowly dragged as Isla fearfully waited for Draco to arrive. _He said to be ready in the morning_, she repeated to herself, anxious worry creasing her brows and frowning her bow lips.

_He'll be here. I know he will. _

But as the sun arced across the cloudless blue sky, gently grazing to the west, Isla's heart sunk lower, her hopeful spirits falling with each passing hour. She did not eat the lunch Mopsey brought, the small elf visibly discouraged as Isla shrugged off the food and mope-d through the house. She waited and waited, opening all the windows on the front of the small lake house to better hear his arrival.

A shower did nothing to kill time and folding and repacking her bag seemed even less time consuming. Hours flowed by as Isla sat with her chin perched on the edge of the bedroom window, warm sunlight bathing her face as her blue eyes remained closed, ears listening for the slightest prick of sound. Her long, blonde curls blew in the breeze and the gentle rocking of her rising and falling chest sent Isla into a quick slumber.

Jolted awake, Isla swore it was the crack of Apparation that jumbled her from unconsciousness. Her head jerked forward, leaning out the small, square window to peer at the empty yard below. Nothing appeared to be amiss but Isla swore she heard something so she hastily jumped to stand, her still sleeping limbs wobbling as she awkwardly jogged to the staircase, bounding down two at a time until she landed loudly on the first floor.

Instinctively Isla bolted for the kitchen, a slight rattling and shifting of pans indicating that it was probably just Mopsey dropping off her next meal. A whole day gone and no sign of Draco.

Isla rounded the corner, turning to face the full of the kitchen as she opened her mouth to give the little elf her appreciation. Inhaling with hesitation, Isla blinked as she exhaled with a sigh, movement in her peripheral vision causing her to turn to face the person. Her mouth held open when she clearly gazed at her guest.

Draco turned around, his right hand holding a pot of tea inches above the open flame stove as he happily smiled at Isla, long hair swinging as he glanced back to remove the fire.

"Where have you been?" Isla immediately asked, anger and agitation evident in her rushed and clipped words. "I thought we were leaving this morning. What happened?"

Draco chuckled, cool demeanor slipping into place as he returned the pot to the stove top before moving to lean backwards against the counter.

"Well hello to you too, love."

Isla crossed her arms, lips pursing as she sternly raised an eyebrow to glare daggers into his handsome face.

"Where. Were. You." She repeated, temper flaring as the whimsical grin fell from Draco's lips.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I met a man at the gala last night who deals with literary artifacts and he requested a meeting this morning to discuss an old book I have been searching for. I did not think it would take longer than a half hour to weasel him out of the treasure but he kept talking about his children and the lovely vacation he surprised his wife with. If I had known he was going to waste my entire day I would not have made the mistake of offering him an introduction." The lie easily rattled on and Draco smiled again with false agitation as Isla slowly chewed over his words.

_Why didn't I just tell her I was at the Manor attending to Father?_ Draco thought, his hard determination instantly suppressing the emotional burst as he focused on maintaining his normal behavior. _Just one elaborate lie after the other._

Still, she looked skeptical and Draco stepped across the distance to playfully grab her upper arms, pulling her rigid body closer.

"I'm rather glad that pompous cheapskate took up my whole day because now I have you to look forward to."

Draco ducked his head to nip lightly at the sensitive skin of her neck. She groaned, disgusted, and turned her head to face Draco's hoping to push his lips off her skin. Her chin hit his jaw and pushed his heated touch from her neck but instead of pulling back to chastise Isla for her unappreciativeness, Draco suctioned his lips back to her skin as he bit his way up the column of her neck, his nose inching up into the curly mess of her hairline. His mouth paused, lips parted as Draco warmly whispered desire filled words into the shell of Isla's ear, a heavy shiver rocking her shoulders as her blue eyes briefly slid shut under the weight of his heady passion.

The moment passed though and Isla's blue eyes popped open, her hands moving up between their bodies to firmly press against Draco's chest, pushing him backwards as she shoved her strength forward.

"No, Draco." Isla said forcefully, determination and fierce tenacity keeping the wizard from approaching her once more. "I'm not rewarding you with sex. I want to leave. I'm stressing out about the potential loss of my future and all you can think about is parties and fucking. I know this is my own mess to take care of, and I will handle it myself if I need to, but you said you would help and I need all the magic I can find if I want to clear my name."

Draco exhaled, his mind burning with sudden anger at the ignorance of her words, and clenched his jaw to avoid an outburst that would give away his conflicted emotions, revealing that something larger was pestering his thoughts.

"Alright. We'll leave tonight then," Draco responded, all fighting bite gone as his shoulders fell in a somewhat defeated manner.

Dropping his calloused hands from her sides Draco shrugged his shoulders, turning to face the counter before moving down the row to open a cabinet door, pulling out two white tea cups and matching plates, a sleek emerald design weaving around the circular rims of both pieces. He deftly poured the steaming liquid into the two cups; steadily carrying both to the small, center kitchen table as Isla stepped to follow, pulling out a wooden chair to sit as Draco moved to the refrigerator to retrieve a small jar of milk, a container of honey, and a ripe lemon.

They sat in silence sipping their tea, each mulling over their own thoughts. Draco watched Isla like a man on a deserted island longing for the lost taste of clean water. She sat swirling her tea, absently thinking as she blankly stared at the moving liquid. When Draco was finished he stood, stacking the various empty containers before moving to place them in the wide ceramic sink. Isla looked up when he turned around, draining the remainder of her beverage before pushing the chair back to stand, her blonde curls falling over her shoulders as she cleaned up her cup and plate, mimicking Draco's actions.

Draco watched her with interest, his lips twitching into a grin as she puttered about, checking her shrunken bags which had been waiting in the kitchen since that morning. Isla appeared startled when she finally looked up, Draco's heated stare catching her off guard as her bottom lip fell and the corners of her mouth pulled up in a wide, forced smile. "Hi..." She stated somewhat anxiously.

Draco laughed shortly, his broad lips making a perfect smile as he paced the short span to stand in front of Isla before grabbing her hand, interlacing their fingers, and squeezing her palm tightly. "Hi," he responded, his mercury eyes twinkling as Isla easily smiled in return.

Draco tilted his head and dipped his neck to soundly press his lips against Isla's, her mouth grinning madly against his advances while Draco grabbed her hand tighter to sway her body against his. Isla relented and returned his kiss, her lips moving with Draco in sync as he licked along the inside of her upper lip, deepening the lip lock as Isla gently moaned.

A moment passed before they parted, panting slightly as their merry eyes met and their lips once more turned up in identical smirks. Both blondes opened their mouths and spoke hastily.

"Draco, I'm-" Isla began.

"Are you sure -" Draco started.

Isla cocked eyebrow, moving her free hand up to lightly punch Draco on the arm.

"Yes! I'm sure I want to leave tonight," she laughed. "But if we hurry, maybe I'll still have some energy when we get there." Isla dipped her tongue out to run over her lip, the motion pulling her lip between her teeth to bite it sexily. Her sapphire eyes darkened and her eyelashes fluttered dramatically. "Come on, big boy, let's go," she finished, her voice husky.

Draco threw his head back and groaned, his silver eyes shutting as he inhaled deeply.

"You're going to kill me one of these days, witch," he uttered, the truthful words taking a different meaning for Isla as she pressed her ample breasts against his muscled chest and giggled.

"Hopefully it will be doing something we both love."

Draco smirked and opened his eyes to peer at her face as his neck snapped forward, his shoulder length, blonde locks swaying forward.

"We can only hope so," he replied, his head bending once more to capture her lips passionately.

Several minutes later Isla and Draco were readjusting their robes, straightening their mussed hair before clasping hands once more and walking to the front door to finally leave. The newly night sky was crisp, the first hint of fall coming in as the plethora of stars twinkled in the cloudless night sky. Isla inhaled the sweet, fresh air, closing her eyes to enjoy the smell of the outdoors.

Draco pulled her forward as she paused, jerking them towards the short stone wall and the open wooden gate standing on the other side of the small front yard. Isla complied, picking her feet up so as not to trip as she walked over the many pebbles and indentations on the grassy earth. She grabbed the top of the picket gate and yanked it shut as the pair stopped on the outside perimeter of the lake house. Just to their right Isla could make out the glassy reflection of the Malfoy Lake, placid in the cool night. Draco squeezed her hand to get her attention and Isla swung her head to look at the wizard as she smiled pleasantly.

"Where to now?" She asked jovially.

Draco returned her facial expression, albeit somewhat strained, and said, "You shall see, my love," before quickly Disapparting them from Malfoy grounds.

When the jarring motions of the immediate traveling ceased, Isla looked around curiously to peer at their surroundings. The forest they were standing in front of bordered a rocky incline that ran to the north, trailing the coast of the North Sea as what she assumed were rolling, grassy fields to their immediate left. There was nothing on the landscape as far as her eyes could see.

"Where are we?" Isla asked.

"About a mile west of the Scottish eastern coast. This is the oldest Malfoy land holding, it is said to be the only house still remaining that was built by the first Malfoi clan in Scotland hundreds of years ago before they migrated to England," Draco explained. "Since we cannot Apparate directly to the house, we had to arrive a distance away from the wards. This was my favorite place to play as child when we would vacation at this home. I loved the depth and darkness of the woods," Draco recalled wistfully, the years of his childhood coming back forcefully as the idle thought ran through his head concerning his own unborn child.

"Okay. Lead the way," Isla stated, looking back at Draco as she began walking in the direction she assumed was east.

Pulled from his momentary daze, Draco pushed a happy smile across his features and nodded expertly at the blonde witch before him.

"Follow me," he said, his wide steps eating up the distance Isla had already made. "But I might suggest you bring out your wand, I wouldn't want you to be too scared of the inky darkness of the forests."

Isla mimicked like she was going to laugh but did the motions without creating the sound, causing Draco to smirk at her sarcastic gesture.

"Very funny." Isla said but retrieved her wand anyways, murmuring a quick _Lumos_ as Draco led them through the thick tree line into the wooded trees.

Minutes later, as they were walking hand in hand, her left arm holding her bright wand aloft, Isla snapped her neck around as the snapping of twigs and leaves alerted them of someone's else's presence. Isla felt the anxious rush of adrenaline pump through her veins and she swallowed nervously as she glanced to see if Draco had heard the noise as well. His blonde head was dutifully trained to the side as his grey eyes roamed the shadowed landscape surrounding them.

"What was that?" Isla whispered quickly, Draco sshhing her as he put up his hand to indicate silence.

The Unspeakables slowed their steps until they were standing still, the white light of the wand tip brightening the immediate vicinity. Draco pulled Isla closer to his side with their gripped hands, holding her arm there as he took a half step forward, his wand raised and pointed into the darkness in front of them.

His motion was instantly followed by the ominous snapping of branches as a jet of fiery blue hurtled towards them after the muffled yell of a curse. Draco dropped Isla's hand, jerking her wand from her other hand to extinguish the light as his right hand twirled and a shield appeared in front of the pair. The angry spell bounced off the barrier but it was only seconds before a stream of other bright colored curses hit the invisible shield. Isla jumped to press her back against Draco's, her wand reclaimed and pointed threateningly in front of her.

"Draco! Who is it?" She screamed, her wide blue eyes darting around for any flicker of motion.

"I don't know!" He yelled back, a second stream of spells bombarding his shield as he flung curses and hexes into the darkness, hoping to hit an unknown target with at least one powerful spell. "We have to run for it! I'll hold them off for a minute while you go ahead."

"No!" Isla protested, throwing her own curses at their mysterious attackers as she moved to stand beside Draco once more. "We're doing this together!"

Draco grunted, his free arm pressing against Isla's chest to push her backwards. "I've got this!" He yelled. "Go! There's a white rock formation on the other side of the forests. Get there and cast an Invisibility charm. Wait for me there."

Before Isla could protest, her furious mind working to open her mouth loudly, Draco twisted his wrist and pushed his palm outward, forcing Isla backwards away from the scene. The magic jolted her until the fighting was a blip of light between the thick forests, Draco's loud cry of anger carrying through the trees as he ran forward, dropping his shield and wielding his wand like a sword as curse after spell burst forth.

Isla scrambled to her feet, stowing her wand beneath the waist of her pants against the protruding bone of her hip, as she turned to go back to the sudden battle. Gaining a running start, Isla focused her thoughts into the right mindset as she forced the change needed for her Animagus. Her arms extended behind her, it took a push off the ground and the quick blink of her blue eyes and Isla felt the sudden transformation from her female body to the lighter frame of a golden hawk.

The night forest was thrown into pitches of blacks and greys as Isla vaulted her feathered body rapidly through the trees, her avian senses peeking as she approached the blinding lights of the magical fight. She could make out Draco easily, his blonde head glowing even in her black and white vision. Across from him were three wizards, two throwing spells at him while the third nervously held his wand in front of him, too scared to join in the battle. Her broad, tawny wings flapped in the salty winds as Isla tilted her body upwards to fly through the branches, narrowly avoiding a thick limb hanging down. Her speed increased and she changed her flight pattern to circle around the group of men, careening in a wide loop as her hawk eyes peered closer at their faces and robes.

_Aurors._ She realized with a start, her wings immediately stopping their motions to suspend her in the air until she beat them again to stay in place. _They're here for me and Draco is taking the brunt of the attack!_

Isla swiftly dipped her beak and dove towards the ground, her medium size bird body floating along the contours of the wind. She double back to land behind the Aurors, landing noiselessly on the earth before shifting back into her human form. Isla's wand was ripped from her pants as she hurriedly stalked up behind the men.

The third man was still anxiously standing at the back, twiddling his wand like a Firstie. _Must be a recruit in training,_ Isla thought ironically. _He got stuck with the wrong mission. Sorry, kid._

With the swoosh of her wand and the flick of her wrist, Isla whispered a muffling charm before more loudly proclaiming, _Pertrificus Totalus._ The alarmed wizard stiffened and fell backwards, the only indication of his demise being the gentle flutter of leaves around his body. Isla stepped forward, giving the young man a grim smile as she moved over him to approach his mentors.

Draco noticed the movement behind his attackers, now close enough that he recognized the two young Aurors who had visited Malfoy Manor and who he had promptly removed from the property. The skilled men were sweating, doing their best to weaken Draco as he repeatedly threw spell after spell at the trained men. He tried to motion for Isla to back off, to tell her that he almost had the Aurors where he wanted them. But she was focused on her stealthy maneuver and did not see Draco's pause in defense.

At the same instant that Isla leaped forward, grabbing the attention of the wizard closer to her, the other man sent a spell flying at Draco that he was a second too late in dodging. He felt the searing pain as a wide cut sliced across his ribs, blood soaking through his shirt to form misshapen blobs. He groaned, one hand reaching across his body to apply pressure to the wound while his other hand furiously swiped at the air, sending jolts of electricity into the Auror who had injured him. The young wizard collapsed to the ground, his unconscious body spasming as the currents dulled.

Draco sighed in relief but was breathless once more when he refocused his sights to see Isla held captive against the remaining Auror's chest, her small hands feebly scratching at the man's arm that was locked across her shoulders, his wand prodding her in the soft skin of her neck, keeping her head in place as she struggled. He lowered his wand slightly and slowly stepped towards the pair, the Auror's haughty stare never leaving Draco as he moved around his fallen partner.

"Let her go," Draco said calmly dropping his tone authoritatively, his left hand covered in dried blood as it remained against the seeping wound at his ribs, his right hand dropping his wand to hold by his side. The young Auror laughed, jerking Isla as his dark head fell to the side in a comedic gesture.

"Really, Malfoy," the wizard proclaimed haughtily. "You'll have to try something better than that. I've got what I want: her. Anything else that you do, I can pin on her and make the arrest that much sweeter."

Draco grunted as he took another step closer, blood oozing across his fingers with the movement.

"Ah, ah. Stay where you are, Malfoy. I don't want any funny business when I leave with Isla here."

Draco paused, watching impatiently as the Auror poked his wand further against Isla's neck, the gold chain of the pendant digging into her skin. She groaned and pleaded with Draco, their eyes meeting as she silently begged him to save her once again. With the wizard still watching him, Draco lifted his wand and made a show of placing it in the sleeve along his robe, removing his hand from the wound to further the gesture. The Auror smirked once more, releasing his grip on Isla slightly as he pointed his wand forward at Draco.

Isla feverishly begged Draco to look at her, her big blue eyes jumping across his face in the hopes of catching his attention. When he did finally meet her gaze, Draco nodded once, the wind blowing to shake his long, blonde hair.

"If there's nothing else then, Mr. Malfoy," the Auror said with false subservience. "I think we'll be - Ahhhh!"

Isla had opened her mouth wide and sunk her teeth into the fleshy forearm of the Auror, his sleeve drawn down his arm as he had held Isla. He jerked his hand free and pushed Isla away, backhanding her as she spun off. The right corner of her lips busted open, blood dropping instantly as a hand came up to wipe the wound and Isla quickly turned to smirk at the wizard as she deftly retrieved her wand.

She was raising it to send one hell of a curse at the Auror when a rushing force flew past Isla, the speeding blonde object crashing into the wizard knocking them both to the ground with a deafening fall. Isla rushed forward as Draco rolled over, the Auror jarred from the blow as a gash formed at the base of his skull from impact on a protruding stone. Draco coughed, a wheezing sound pulling through his lungs as a hand feebly crossed his body to press against his now gushing injury.

"Draco, stay with me," Isla said as she fell to her knees, scrambling to move Draco across her lap. His grey eyes looked up dramatically, his mouth agape as the corners of his lips pulled up and he chuckled with little effort.

"I'm not going anywhere. Just put some Blood Clotting charms on my side and I'll be fine until we make it to the house."

Isla nodded shakily, her hands trembling as she lifted her wand to perform the spells, her concentration suddenly distracted when the Auror next to them groaned loudly, his eyes blinking slowly as he began to move about.

"Hurry," Draco urged.

Isla looked back, catching his gaze while nodding furiously, her hands moving faster now as the blood stopped flowing and tiny scars began forming over the edges of the large wound. Draco pushed a hand back against the soil, leaning forward and pressing his weight onto his arm as Isla hurriedly jumped to help him stand. On two feet, Draco draped an arm around Isla's shoulders as she pulled his body against her own, roughly grabbing his hips to keep him upright. The Auror was attempting to sit up, his head still too dizzy but he seemed to notice Draco and Isla's movements and forced his torso off the ground.

Isla gasped and tugged on Draco, turning to run in the right direction as the Auror fumbled across the grass for his wand.

"Draco, let's move," she commanded, pulling the taller and bulkier wizard along with her. Despite her smaller size, Isla was able to move efficiently fast while still maintaining the majority of Draco's weight. He was able to keep himself up but there was no way Draco would have been able to get away this quickly without Isla's help. The pair moved through the moon lit forest, breathing heavy as Isla struggled to navigate the unknown woods.

Behind them the Auror was standing, one hand against a tree to steady himself as he watched them get a head start, his head still spinning from Draco's forceful hit. In one step he took off, running as best he could after Isla and Draco, his stumbling footsteps loudly alerting the pair to his advancing path. Isla peeked over their shoulders, Draco's hair whipping across her vision as she worriedly watched the Auror follow them.

"Come on Draco. How much further?" She asked anxiously, her words rushed as she glanced at the man beside her.

"The edge is just up here," Draco wheezed. "That white rock I told you about is the closest post for the wards of the House. Once we get past it, he won't be able to touch us. We'll disappear behind the - ugh - behind the protections."

Isla squeezed him tighter, slightly pausing to lift his weight further on herself as Draco groaned in pain.

"Not too much longer, love," she reassured him. Draco smiled weakly, pushing what little strength he had left into stepping forward to begin moving again.

The Auror was lagging behind, winded and somewhat disoriented as he chased the blonde pair through the dark forest. When a vague brightness beyond them alerted him that they would soon be out of the woods and out of his grasp, the Auror jabbed his wand forward, twirling the end as a jet of golden streams shot forward to impale itself perfectly where Draco and Isla's bodies met. He paused as the pair instantly fell apart, each grabbing their own wounds, himself doubling over to catch his breath.

Isla had to let Draco go as her arm burned, flesh singed and robes burning as clutched the appendage to her chest. Dire panic set in as she glanced back to see the Auror steadily walking towards them, his wand shaking as he stumbled forward. Draco had fallen to his knees, blood now flowing from his wound fast enough that his already pale face was white as a sheet. Both large hands were covering the injury and Draco was seconds from falling forward on his face when Isla swooped under his kneeling form to awkwardly throw him over her shoulder.

"Not now, Draco. Don't give up on me now," she snarled, anger kicking in as the young Auror closed in. Adrenaline pumped double time and Isla lifted their weight up, her legs strongly supporting both bodies. Her steps were large and heavy but Isla made progress as the last of the trees impeding their destination stood only meters away.

"Might as well stop while you're ahead, Isla!" The Auror called. "Don't make me do something that you'll regret," he threatened.

She did not turn to acknowledge his words but increased their pace as the chilling words sent her heart rate flying faster, a warm hole burrowing through her chest at the sudden onslaught of panic. Isla looked down, puzzled at the warm object near her heart and was surprised to see the pendant of Ophelia glowing brightly through her robes and shirts. The purple gem shone with increasing veracity as Isla pushed through the last of the trees to breathe in the clearer air of a small grassy plain.

Nerves gripped her as they stopped. "Draco, there's nothing here! Where's the house?"

His head bobbed around as Draco dazedly glanced about.

"Just get past the rock. It will appear."

Isla did not hesitate and located the large white rock, almost half away across the field on their left, closer to the rock formings that created a cliff off one edge of the ocean. She moved hastily, readjusting Draco's weight as she hobbled closer to the magical post that was holding the wards in place. A loud shuffling behind them told Isla that the Auror had found his way through the forest and would soon be catching up to them.

_Not too much further. _

The pendant was now humming warmly against her heaving chest, practically bouncing off her skin and through her clothes. The white rock now within a short distance, Isla looked back over her shoulder as the Auror opened his mouth to roar a spell, his wand jabbing forward with the slow motion effect as a ghastly red stream of magic shot forth, quickly eating the distance between the two. As Isla pressed her foot into the ground with one last step as she pushed herself and Draco forward, the raging spell slammed against her back, propelling her forward with a sickening crunch.

Isla's eyes went wide in complete pain and terror as a scream tore from her lips. The pendant was slowly burning her shirts and skin, the chain jerking around her neck as her rushing momentum carried her and the now unconscious Draco past the white rock, their bodies jolted as they passed through the invisible wards. The rushing movement was too much and Isla blacked out, the pendant madly skipping across her chest. A complete and absolute warped spinning carried Isla and Draco past the protective spells and through a portal that needed a specific ingredient to work its ancient magic and carry them through time. The pendant of Ophelia.

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**A/N: Thank you for reading! This chapter took a few days of careful consideration and planning. Please review and tell me what you think!**

**The next chapter will be slow coming because I want to do some research to accurately portray the next aspects of the story. It's very important to me that I tell it was correct as possible and I want that to show through with vivid details and ****accurate**** descriptions. I promise the next chapter will be worth the wait and will explain a lot more. Until then...**


	6. Whats My Name

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the Harry Potter universe. The OC's are my own, but besides that, all else belongs to JK Rowling. Much gratitude to her for the creations of such beautifully magical characters and places. **

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**Chapter Six - What's My Name?  
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Her eyes remained closed as the low hustle and bustle in the room around her awoke Isla. She was conscious to not allow anyone nearby to notice her awakening, so the Unspeakable forced herself to remain still as her ears adjusted to sounds that pulled her from sleep. As her senses perked up Isla winced as pain flowed into the bandaged area on the backside of her left ribs. It ached even as she scooted around silently to jumble the rest of her body.

Her ears picked up on two distinct voices, both female speaking with a heavy Scottish brogue.

"Am aye right, am aye wrang?" A high pitched voice said rhetorically. "They wer' up ta nah good, aye tell yer. An' their clothes? Tha lass had on britches!"

The second woman clucked her tongue, her voice strained as Isla shifted lazily to listen better.

"Yer not wrang," the deeper voice replied. There was a slight pause as Isla heard the shuffling of linens, the women obviously maids come in to retrieve dirty laundry. "An they wer' hashed up prete bad. The 'andsome bloke was bleedin' 'til 'bout 'our hours ago. 'aybe sooon one of 'em will corm 'round. Lord Ma'foi will wanta speek to 'em sooon 'nuff."

Their voices diminished as Isla heard the scraping sounds of a door opening and closing as the women exited the bed chamber. Her blue eyes instantly popped open, staring dazedly at the white canvas canopy that covered the bed. Her neck rotated, moving from side to side as she scanned her surroundings. She assumed she was resting in a guest bedroom at the Malfoy house but she did not remember Draco mentioning servants being present here, human or elven. The thought passed through her mind as she glanced over the furniture. It appeared old. But new.

The armoire and vanity table were intricately detailed but in a medieval pattern that Isla knew was no longer a regular trademark. Sitting up, gingerly shifting her body forward until the pain was a dull ache as she leaned against her bent knees, Isla peered closer at the designs and patterns of the fabrics. Every piece of cloth was extraordinarily rich, vibrant reds, blues, purples, and greens jumping out of the multifaceted images.

Across from the bed in between two large, open windows, a moving tapestry caught Isla's eye. The enchanted fabric was roughly five by three meters, gruesomely depicting a metal armor suit wearing man triumphantly standing atop a mound of decapitated bodies, their heads lolling around in the background as the blonde haired man grinned arrogantly at the viewer.

_Maybe his family likes to keep the decorations traditional_, Isla thought, musing over the placement of a moving tapestry versus a moving portrait in these days and times.

The slightly ajar door of the large, cherry wood wardrobe interested Isla enough to grab the edge of the overly fluffy comforter to peel it away from her sweating legs as she inched her way across the mattress to toss her small feet over the border of the bed. The thick rug was plush between her toes as Isla slowly slid off the mattress to evenly displace her weight over her weakened stance, grimacing tightly and wincing slightly when the jerk of her hips jolted her bandaged side. Small steps took her across the room until Isla was hesitantly shifting from foot to foot in front of the wooden wardrobe. Her matted blonde curls stuck to her damp neck as Isla lifted a hand to inch it forward until the tips of her fingers grazed the polished wooden door. It was swinging open with her light touch, swaying on the gold hinges but needing a stronger pull.

Just as her pads of her fingertips wrapped around the short wooden board of the door to completely open it, the_ pop_ of Apparation jolted Isla and caused her to jump backwards as her hand flew to her chest, her lungs inhaling sharply as her blonde head whipped around to glance at the room.

"Oh Misses! You're awake!" A squeaky voice called, jerking Isla to her left as her body turned to face the intruder.

Standing in the middle of the room was a tiny house elf, her large, bright blue eyes and floppy ears twitching happily as the creature smiled at Isla. Her eyebrows rose with surprise when the witch noticed what the elf was wearing. The dress was surely a child's outfit, small enough to fit the elf snuggly. It was fashioned with a wide hoop skirt and a tight bodice, puffy sleeve caps ending bereftly to indicate that full length sleeves had been removed. The ocean blue color matched the elf's eyes almost identically and Isla briefly wondered where the creature found such a beautiful garment.

"Mistress sent SeaSea to check on Misses. She doesn't trust those Muggle women, no she doesn't." The elf eagerly explained, her bony fingers interweaving excitedly.

"What if they come back?" Isla hurriedly whispered.

SeaSea laughed hesitantly but grinned anyways, her mouth wide as she bared her yellow teeth. "They can't no see SeaSea. They do not see what they do not want to."

Isla sheepishly glanced back at the armoire, her curiosity not satiated as she begged to see what was inside. SeaSea followed her line of sight and hopped across the drafty room to stand merrily between Isla and the wardrobe as the witch turned to face the object of her desire.

"What do you want to wear today, Misses?" SeaSea asked, her long fingers easily slipping between the cracks of the doors to open them wide, revealing a closet full of heavy dresses.

Isla's eyebrows rose, her blue eyes skeptical as she moved forward to inspect the clothing. Every single dress was fashioned akin to the one SeaSea was wearing, each with a different necklace and bodice design and in each in a bevy of colors. The rich velvets and smooth silks begged to be touched and Isla lightly gripped each garment before looking back to the elf.

"They're all very beautiful but where are my trousers, my shirts and robes?"

SeaSea's eyes widened in fright as the woman's sudden displeasure crawled across her sagging skin.

"SeaSea must apologize, Misses, but there are only gowns here. Gentlemen wear britches, not the ladies, Misses," the elf squeaked as her blue eyes widened and her lips quivered. SeaSea looked nervous as her large feet pattered across the thick carpet to hesitantly stand in front of Isla. "Mistress told me to dress Misses is Misses was awake yet. She and Master want both you and the man who looks like Master to be ready for supper with the King."

"The King?" Isla startled, her ocean eyes widening further as her mouth held open as bewilderment jerked her eyebrows up and flared her nostrils. "What king?"

"King James," SeaSea stated quietly, her hands shaking as her answer was processed by the witch.

"King James?"

SeaSea turned her head, glancing around suspiciously as she slowly blinked. "James VI, King of Scots," SeaSea replied, her bony hands clasping and unclasping as her neck tilted her large, wrinkly head up to peer intently at Isla.

"No," Isla protested. "Elizabeth II is the Queen of Britain. There has not been a Scottish royal family for four hundred years!" She finished, her panic rising as her voice shook with near hysterics.

SeaSea reached up to grab Isla's hand, tugging her gently as she moved to sit her down on a nearby couch, the witch becoming unstable as she frantically tossed her blonde head every which way, anxiously inhaling and exhaling heavily. Suddenly the vast differences in the furniture, the clothing, the speaking mannerisms, the pieces began to fall in place as Isla timidly placed a hand against her neck to feel for the thin gold chain hoisting the pendant, nerves gripping her because she already knew it was not there. The heavy necklace was missing and Isla quickly scanned the top of the nearby dresser for the presence of jewelry. There was no sign of the pendant of Ophelia and looking around more closely, Isla did not see a single item that belonged to her.

"Where are we? What year is it, SeaSea?" Isla asked as she faced the small elf, the creature leaning forward curiously as she narrowed her large eyes. SeaSea's pointed nose brushed her nightgown clad knee and Isla laid her open palm against her thigh to encourage the elf to speak.

"Tis 1591 in the year of our reigning King, James of Scots," SeaSea responded automatically, the phrase somehow ingrained in her speech. "And wee are in tha 'ouse of tha gracious Lord 'nd Lady Arcturas Malfoi."

The air was pulled from her lungs as Isla slouched, her torso caving in to itself as her shoulders dropped in dissatisfaction. The elf did not know what to expect but was relieved when Isla picked up her head and cautiously asked, "Where's Draco?" SeaSea blankly stared at her and she explained, "The man I arrived here with."

SeaSea instantly grinned, her hands clapping giddily as she once more reached for Isla's hands, strongly pulling the witch to stand before moving across the room once more to stand in front of the wardrobe. Cold, bony fingers released their grip as SeaSea feverishly flipped through the catalog of gowns, her hands pausing as she tugged the skirt of a royal blue dress from the folds. Snapping her middle finger and thumb briskly, the dress lifted off the crowded rack as if by an invisible force to rest evenly across SeaSea's outstretched arms.

"Ya need to put thes on, Misses." SeaSea instructed as she raised the dress for Isla to take. "I'll go wake the young Sir and ya two well go downstaurs."

SeaSea grinned happily, her task completed as she turned to run to the door, glancing back as she twisted the knob to make sure Isla was readying. When the witch did not appear to have moved, her hands limply holding the gown as her cobalt eyes gazed questioningly at the elf, SeaSea waved a hand to shoo her forward before disappearing around the closing door.

Isla did not know what surprised her most: that a house elf had commanded her to do something, that the same house elf appeared thoroughly cared for, or that she and Draco had somehow traveled through time. All three were very reasonable doubts in Isla's mind. The Malfoy's did not mistreat their elves by any means but she had seen Mopsey, their house elves were not treated as well as SeaSea obviously was. How could this have happened? How on earth could they have traveled this far back in time without repercussion?

The slight noise of the wooden door bouncing lightly against the frame erased Isla's thoughts as she tossed the heavy velvet dress across a settee, her fingers rushing to grip the cottony material of her long, white nightgown to pull it over her head. Isla felt the easy breeze blow through the windows as goose bumps rose along her skin, allowing her to notice for the first time the dreary weather outside. Gray clouds covered the sun, a low fog setting as a consistent drizzle rained from the sky.

Isla flipped the blue dress over, bunching up the skirt as she snaked her arms through the thick material until they found purchase in the holes for the sleeves. In one swoop, she pulled the gown over her head, yanking on the slick fabric until the bodice snuggly pressed her large breasts together, tightly conforming to her torso. Isla tugged at the waistline to stretch the material but it did not give and securely fixed at her hips once more. Leaving the dress alone for a moment, Isla bent to shuffle around the skirts of the remaining gowns in the armoire to look for shoes. Grasping a pair of silken slippers Isla tugged them onto her feet before jumping up to rush to the door, silently turning the knob to open it before hesitantly peering up and down the stone hallway.

No one was walking by and Isla slipped through the door, turning the knob as she shut it to let the lock fall silently in place. Her footsteps were light as she crept down the hallway, the ruffling of the large skirt muffled as she picked up the bottom of the gown and Isla sealed herself against the wall when a door opened and quickly shut just in front of her on the right. Her blonde head tipped forward to peer anxiously at whoever had just interrupted her stealthy plan.

"Mistress well nat be pleased," Isla heard SeaSea mutter to herself as the elf walked in the opposite direction, her steps falling quiet as she turned a corner and disappeared from her line of sight.

Glancing both ways down the hall, Isla tiptoed forward until her body was pressed against another door, her sweating palm surrounding yet another door knob as she hesitantly pushed it open, praying that she had not chosen the wrong room to enter. As the bedroom came into view with the opening door, Isla exhaled slightly as Draco's immobile form lay on the bed but she sucked in a deep breath when she glanced over his still very active wounds.

Draco's long blonde hair was fanned out peacefully on the silk pillow under his head, his facial hair sculpting a chiseled beard in the days of his unconsciousness. He was dressed in a tunic-like nightgown, the wide collar displaying inches of Draco's creamy chest. The plush green and black comforter was nestled under his folded arms, his large hands laying atop the thick material.

Isla stood motionless, her chest stilled as she anxiously stared at the man she loved. She just watched him, his torso rising and falling with his steady breathing until his neck jerked and his grey eyes opened tentatively as his lungs coughed, rattling his weak body with a sudden force. In an instant Isla was at the beside, perching precariously on the edge of the mattress as she gently reached for Draco's hand, his head rotating slowly to blink at the expectant woman.

"Draco," she cooed gently, her thumb stroking the back of his cold hand as she forced him to focus his gaze, nodding her curly head as she repeated, "Draco. Draco."

"What is it?" he groaned, his voice rough from disuse. "What's wrong?"

"Draco, something has happened!" Isla urgently whispered. She scooted further up the bed and leaned forward to drop her voice as her face inched closer to Draco. "When we were in the forest! That Auror, I'm not sure what he did. I think it was the necklace. The pendant of Ophelia, I never told you that I had found it! Oh Draco, somehow we got sent back in time and… and… I don't know how we'll get back home!"

His blonde eyebrows had steadily risen as Isla had spoken and once she was finished, her breathing slowed, she realized Draco was looking at her like she was crazy. His large hand wiggled from the grasp of her fingers and Isla inhaled sharply when Draco blinked and a hardness appeared behind his silver eyes. She sat back, reaching forward to help Draco to a sitting position as he struggled to move in his weak state but pulled back her hands when he glared lazily at her. When he was sitting up straight, Draco ironed out the wrinkles in the comforter as he looked back up to Isla, a hint of curiosity sparked as he spoke.

"Who are you now? And what is this talk of time travel?" Draco asked slowly, Isla's heart stopping before falling to the bottom of her gut as he added off-hand, "That's preposterous."

Her palms were sweating against the thick velvet of her gown but Isla forced her hands to stay still as she held her breath for several minutes as a frown turned down the corners of Draco's lips under her scrutiny.

"What is wrong?" He asked hesitantly as Isla's deep blue eyes grew sad and tears formed in the corners.

"Draco," Isla started, "What do you remember? What's the last thing you remember before you woke up?" Her voice was strained but Isla concentrated to keep calm as Draco glanced away to think.

His frown deepened and his eyes squinted shut as Draco tried to think backwards from his awakening moments ago. His brain kicked into overdrive as Draco repeatedly drew a blank when he thought about recent memories. Flashes of moments from his youth at Hogwarts surfaced, images from the battle at the school and the ultimate defeat of Lord Voldemort but everything after that was a blur. He felt immense sadness clouding his box of locked memories and Draco wrestled with his mind to remember something. To remember anything that could explain his current predicament.

"Nothing," he admitted defeatedly, his grey eyes opening to stare at Isla as her shoulders feel dejectedly. "I cannot remember anything since I left Hogwarts."

Isla closed her eyes tightly, praying silently that this was a temporary loss of mind and Draco would be fine in a few days.

"You have post-traumatic selective retrograde amnesia," Isla stated, her face frowning as she opened her mouth to say more before Draco interrupted.

"How do you know that?" He asked reproachfully, anger clutching to his words.

"I took classes when I was at University," she explained, her speech slow as she steadily gazed at Draco.

"A Muggle university?" He responded skeptically. "Are you a Muggle?"

Isla's lips tightened as she noticed the disgust lacing his words.

"Yes, a Muggle University. I'm a half-blood, my father is a wizard."

His lip curled up as Draco's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows crept up his forehead, disappearing behind his shaggy blonde locks. When he did not say anything else, Isla pressed forward.

"I learned about memory loss in psychology classes. Post-traumatic selective retrograde amnesia means that our time traveling jarred your mind and erased certain memories pertaining to a stressful time in your life. You obviously don't remember me. Or anything else after the war."

Her lips pursed as Isla turned to push her weight forward to move off the bed. Her light steps paced evenly beside the bed and Draco watched her motions as his mind attempted to process her logic while looking past her blood status.

"Who are you then?" He finally asked, stopping Isla in her tracks as her hands fidgeted behind her back and her nervous gaze traveled up his sculpted face to his molten silver eyes.

"We were dating. We are dating," Isla corrected herself. "I'm your girlfriend."

"For how long?" Draco asked dubiously.

"Just over three years."

Draco _hmph_'ed in surprise.

"Were we - happy?" He questioned, his earnest stare gripping Isla's heart as he silently begged her to tell him that his life was better now than it was from what he remembers.

Shakily she nodded her head, the poofy skirt of her gown swooshing across the carpet as Isla moved back to sit on the mattress, her torso facing Draco. "Yes, we were very happy." But Isla paused as a weight seemed to lie on her shoulders. "Until recently."

Her gaze dropped heavily before she continued. "I got into a spot of trouble when I was on assignment and we were working to prove I wasn't guilty when this -" Isla threw her hands up to indicate their surroundings, "happened. Now we're trapped in 1591 and there doesn't seem to be a way back."

Not fully convinced of her story, Draco glanced around the bedroom as he noticed for the first time the seemingly medieval decorations and furnishings. Two polished silver swords were mounted in a large X on the opposite wall, detailed coverings wrapping around the grips. There was no glass on the windows, merely wrought iron bars that formed a lazy barrier on the larger windows and open air on the smaller ones. Lastly he glanced back to the blonde woman sitting on his bed, claiming to be his lover, and peered at her unusual attire.

"What you got on there?" He asked, jerking Isla's attention upward as her mouth hung open stupidly.

"One of the house elves picked it out for me," she answered, glancing back down to finger the plush material. "She came in here to wake you up and prepare you for supper with our hosts."

Realizing that he was in fact, not in his own bed, Draco reached a hand up to rub gently along the coarse bristles of his new beard before asking, "Whose home are we in then?"

Her soft, pink tongue swiped along the dry edges of her lips, distracting Draco as his gaze wandered to her mouth, before tightening in a straight line as Isla internally battled over how much to tell Draco. Reluctantly she admitted, "The elf said this estate belongs to the Lord and Lady Arcturas Malfoi."

"Mal-foi?" Draco repeated hurriedly, his eyes coming to life as familial recognition swept over his thoughts. "I'll be damned," he said as his lips grinned irresponsibly. Lost in lessons learned about his family's past, Draco blinked rapidly as he refocused his vision and met Isla's waiting gaze. "If this is the house of my ancestors then we shall take the matter to them and let our hosts and caretakers decide."

Isla startled, her eyebrows creasing in confusion as Draco shuffled under the blankets, moving to escape the suppressing heat of the bedding. Isla laid a hand out, pressing it into the fabric where Draco was trying to get to as he stopped his actions.

"What matter?" She quizzed.

"The issue of how we got here and where here is," Draco said matter of factly, his feet kicking past Isla's hand as he scooted to the edge, forcing Isla to inch backwards as her position impeded his release from the sheets. When he stopped short, his grey eyes clamping shut as he winced in pain, one hand quickly sliding across his body to touch the offended area, Isla jumped forward to lightly lay a hand on his forearm, her fingers curving to squeeze gently with reassurance. Draco grimaced but moved slowly until his feet were dangling off the mattresses, his knees bent around the curve of the bed.

"Draco, you have to listen to me," Isla said urgently. "We shouldn't involve them. We could alter history and change the future."

"And why not?" He barked, his blonde head rotating to glare at Isla as she sat beside him, comforting his pain despite his lack of encouraging behavior. "Do you know how we got here? You said yourself that you don't think there is a way back. What else are we going to do?"

"Draco. I think we should -"

"What's your name, anyways?" He asked distractedly.

The words died on her tongue and Isla felt her heartstrings tug with piercing agony at his sudden question.

"Isla," she answered quietly as Draco nodded once.

"Well then, Isla," he said, trying out the familiar feel of her name on his tongue. "What do you suggest?"

Isla pulled back her hand to weave her fingers together nervously in her lap. Draco waited for her answer as he stared at her expectantly, his eyebrows inching upwards mechanically. His words had triggered a light bulb as Isla remembered a vital piece of information.

"I've been researching my case for a while," she finally answered.

"Case for what?" Draco queried before his mind processed the question.

"I'm an Unspeakable," Isla replied, continuing her previous answer. "My partner and I had been searching for the lost pendant of Ophelia, a mysterious necklace that was rumored to have been magically enchanted by a Dark Wizard in Italy many hundreds of years ago. It was said to possess time bending properties that the wizard had only been able to produce on the one occurrence that he bewitched the jewelry. It fell out of public knowledge around 1400 but reappeared in London during the early years of Queen Elizabeth I's reign."

She paused to catch her breath after the words fell in a jumble from her mouth, Isla's growing excitement turning her frown upside down as she jumped up from the bed. She turned to stand in front of Draco, her hands clenching and unclenching rapidly as he stared at her, a puzzled expression lining his face.

"So what does that mean for us? If that necklace somehow got us here, how do we get back?"

Isla chuckled merrily, suddenly jerking forward to grab Draco's hands to pull him up to stand, steadying his balance when he jolted from the movement.

"Don't you see, Draco?" She asked rhetorically. "The necklace is here in Britain now! If we can get to London and find it, we'll be able to go home!"

Her excitement bubbled over and Draco smiled easily despite himself. Reasoning set in and the grin disappeared as Draco calmed Isla's jumping happiness to ask a grounding question.

"How will we get there?"

Isla paused, a frown marring her happy jubilancy as the thought process of how to travel to London formed.

"Because if I remember correctly, the Malfoy Manor during this time is in Scotland. It is still not for another decade that the family moved south to England."

Stumped by his words, Isla released her hands to fold them across her chest as Draco precariously inched around her to walk across the room, inspecting the furniture and items as he went. Isla turned to follow him as Draco stopped in front of a chest of drawers with a large mirror hanging above it. Their reflections matched as Isla came to rest just behind Draco, alternating between peering over his shoulder and in through the mirror to see what he had suddenly focused his attention on.

Folded neatly on the stone top of the wooden dresser were two sets of clothes, both torn and dirty with the matching accessories of shoes, robes, watches, and wands. As Isla reached past Draco to rifle through her pile, disregarding his weak groan and ill pained 'Hey!', a glare of metal underneath her wand and laid within the folds of her robe caught her eye. As her fingers grasped the object and pulled it out, Isla gasped and Draco lazily looked to see what she was holding.

The gold chain was still intact but the once beautiful pendant of Ophelia was shattered, tiny specks stuck to the mangled gold plating. _Its magic only works one time_, Isla thought, panic following the line as the sudden hope for an easy return was thwarted.

"Was that the necklace?" Draco asked, jolting Isla as she remembered his quiet presence and glanced over her shoulder to nod. "Doesn't look like its going to be doing us much good now."

Again Isla nodded, her eyelids heavy as she processed the enormity of what needed to be done to retrieve the necklace that was hopefully, from the original story, in the procession of the current Queen of England, Elizabeth I.

"No, it sure doesn't," Isla responded morosely. She dropped the broken jewelry onto the dresser and her fingers found purchase around the wooden frame of her wand as Isla turned in the short distance to face Draco.

A hasty plan was forming. She was going to have to go to London alone. With Draco missing half his memories and personality, not to mention he was sure to be mistaken for a Scottish Malfoi in the heart of a very prideful British nation, Isla knew he would not be of much help in smoozing royalty and bypassing their trust. This was a mission that she had to finish by herself, or else Isla knew she would not be able to forgive herself for all the events that had come of her accidental Killings.

"Listen, Draco," Isla started. "I'm going to go to London and-"

But she was interrupted by a brisk knock at the bedroom door followed by a short, "Sir, thes es Molly. I'm 'posed ta take ye downstaurs fa suppa."

Draco looked to Isla in a panic, his grey eyes wide at the unexpected guest. She did not know what to do, their plans would have to wait now, and gestured with her hands for him to either go to the door or say something.

"Yes. Alright," he replied loudly, his voice deep as Draco talked as if the woman were in front of him. "We will be out in a moment, just have to get dressed."

In a flurry, the blonde wizard pulled open various drawers, grabbing random garments to toss on the stone top before moving on to the armoire where he grabbed a pair of shoes from the bottom and a coat of blackest night from the rack. Faster than she thought possible, Draco was dressed in a flowing white shirt that ruffled across his chest overtop forest green knickers with matching knee high socks and shiny black shoes. The black coat was pulled on quickly as Draco walked across the bedroom to grasp his familiar wand, stowing it up his sleeve as Isla reached around his arms to straighten out the collar of his shirt.

Draco looked down at her distractedly, a feeling of deja-vu warping him as his jaw ticked and his eyebrows furrowed. She smiled pleasantly at him when she glanced up, turning soundly to walk to the door before looking back at him expectantly. Draco hobbled forward to twist the knob of the door, ushering Isla out as the young Muggle gasped surprised outside in the hallway.

"Oh Misses, we wa lookin' fa ye." Molly stated, awfully hiding the scandalous grin that betrayed her unbias position. "Well, hurry op. They'll ba waitin' fa ye."

The short, black haired woman turned, walking hurriedly down the hallway as Draco and Isla smirked in union at the other at their implied actions, rushing behind the nearly running maid as she turned a quick corner to steadily dash down a grand flight of stairs. The tail end of the skirt of her black dress was flying around a hard corner as Draco and Isla turned to follow but nearly fell on top of each other when they stopped short in front of two very large, very ornately carved wooden doors that scraped across the cold, stone floor as Molly pulled them open, grinning knowingly as the pair smoothly walked through the entrance.

Their steps were in sync as they approached a sizeable table set for dinner. At the head of the plush, rectangular table sat a blonde headed man who jumped to his feet as Draco and Isla approached, a broad smile showing his straight teeth. On his left was a warm redhead, her vibrant blue eyes glowing as she too stood to greet the guests.

"Well, look who et is, Kaelina, our sleepin' beautes," the thin man called jovially to his nearby wife.

"Aye," she responded, golden dress shimmering as she turned to face them.

Remembering his manners, Draco paused when they reached the pair, dipping his head and shoulders as he bowed, Isla catching on and quickly curtseying.

"My Lord," he said reverently facing Arcturas. "My Lady," he stated to Kaelina as she nodded happily, a slight blush rising to her cheeks.

"Ah! Nonsense lad!" Arcturas guffawed, easily reaching out to lightly grab Draco by the shoulder, shaking him slightly as he neared. "We be famly! Call me Archie and dats ma beautiful wife Kaelina."

"Welcome ta our home," the redhead genuinely greeted them.

"Thank you so much for saving us," Isla interjected as Draco opened his mouth to speak, his mercury eyes peeling to her as he glared threateningly. "I'm not sure how we ended up here but we are truly appreciative of your hospitality and generosity."

Kaelina looked impressed as she smiled knowingly at Arcturas. "I told ye they weer good people," she said to her husband before turning to Isla and Draco, sweeping her hand out to motion for them to sit down at their predestined seats on Arcturas' right. "No need ta thank us. Only Malfoi blood can bring a person through those wards unharmed. We was merely doing a service to family. Now sit, ya can tell us all aboot ya travels lata."

Draco and Isla shared a look of raised eyebrows and hesitant, sharp eyes before walking around the table to sit before a buffet of food appeared on the various empty, golden serving plates. Her stomach growled loudly but Isla glanced from Arcturas to Kaelina before asking, "If you don't mind me asking, SeaSea - the elf? said that we were having dinner with King James tonight?"

The Lord and Lady laughed before Kaelina answered, "SeaSea can remember everything ya tell her but she cannot remember the correct date for any event." She laughed once more, her elegantly styled red mane tossing, before finishing her explanation with, "James was here for dinner last week and will be back in two weeks again. SeaSea is so delighted by his arrivals that she confuses every week with when he'll be coming."

Isla nodded and smiled in return, pleasantly surprised that this Malfoy Lady seemed to know her house elves on a personal basis. _Maybe that is why SeaSea was so well dressed_, Isla mused before picking up a silver fork to begin her meal.

The conversation at dinner flowed, the event ended too short before the group left the dining room and although Arcturas and Kaelina invited the blonde pair to relax in the library by the fireplace, Draco and Isla declined, somewhat feigning exhaustion as they went the opposite direction to return to their rooms.

Once they were back in Draco's bedroom, the door barely shut, Draco turned to Isla as he unbuttoned his stiff coat, his long arms crossing haughtily as he drawled, "That was loads of fun, chatting with the very distant relatives at dinner, but what are we doing to get back home?" He paused to allow Isla to jump in with an idea but as she was opening her mouth, words halfway out as she brought up a hand to gesture with, Draco briskly picked up his speech as if he had not stopped. "Here's what I was thinking. We'll go into London, I'll be the handsome and wealthy bachelor from abroad and you'll be my assistant girl or something. Once we're there -"

Isla pressed a hand against his chest to stop the flow of nonsensical babbling as Draco looked down in confusion as to why Isla would stop his profound ramblings.

"No, this is how it's going to happen," Isla instructed. "I'll go to London and be back in a few days with the necklace and then we'll get back to the future." Draco blankly stared at her as if she were crazy to think he would miss out on any fun while on their time hopping adventure. "No protesting," she warned when Draco's bearded jaw opened to get a word in edge wise. "You will be too suspicious in London. You Malfoy's are just too prominent." Draco smirked at her words but did not protest as she continued. "I'll leave now and be back as soon as I can."

"Wait, now? You're leaving now?" Draco asked incredulously as Isla looked up from replacing her wand in a secret sleeve along her side, her blue eyes wide with sudden happiness at his near panic.

"Yes."

"But how?" His tone was almost whining as Draco realized the one person who he knew, or at least who knew him, was leaving.

Isla smirked carefully, "You'll see," she said as she licked her lips sexily, her eyebrows leering as she turned to walk to one of the larger windows.

"You won't fit through there," Draco protested as he followed her, his awkward mumblings causing him to scratch his head in wonder as to why his heart was jerking so thoroughly for this strange, blonde haired witch. When she turned her head to glare over her shoulder, Draco let his eyebrows rise questioningly as his shoulders shrugged and he hurriedly added, "Not because you can't fit through the window but because of the bars."

Isla grinned wide, her blue eyes sparkling as she winked at Draco before facing the window once more. Her eyes closed and as she heard Draco open his mouth and inhale heavily to begin a drawling monologue, Isla pictured her avian Animagus and pushed the shrinking changes that within seconds had her feathered body lifting smoothly from the falling blue gown. It sunk to the wooden floor as Isla beat her tawny wings to peer through amber eyes at a very astonished Draco.

"You're an - an Animagus?" He asked, wonder and slight jealousy lacing his words.

Isla gave a short, loud _caw_ in reply, floating to circle Draco's blonde head as he watched her with amazement before she swooped through the space and angled her light body to shoot their a wide, bared hole in the window. Draco hobbled to the window to watch her go and genuinely smiled as the golden speck of a bird flew off into the dark night sky.

The flight was shorter than she anticipated but Isla was coming into London within a few hours' time. She had not expected it but knew she should have when she noticed a thick cloud hanging over the dimly lit city on the Thames River. Her wings slowed their beating motions as she steadily approached the capital city, rain and mist clouding her black and white vision as the upcoming lights seemed to dim further the closer Isla got. Thinking that the royal buildings and mansions were in the same location as they were presently in the future, she found the winding Thames and followed its path as the pain pelted her bird body and the gusting wind pulled her every which way.

It did not occur to Isla that she had been following the river in the wrong direction but by the time she had traced the river and still had not seen the shining lights of the royal palace, Isla knew something had gone wrong but was now too tired to exert the energy to make a quick decision. Hope spurred in her fluttering chest as the sparse lights emitting from a partially open dome made her think that somehow she had stumbled upon the palace by the back entrances.

Isla increased her speed and her wings beat harder as she dove to fly through the opening into a large, stadium theater. Going too fast to be able to stop her momentum, Isla braced herself as she painfully rushed into the wooden paneling for a balcony on the faux second floor. Her golden wings were spread eagle as her feathered body splattered with a loud thud, peeling off slowly as she fell to the ground to land in a heap of naked female limbs. Isla groaned as she turned over and curled into the fetal position, her knees tucked to her bare chest as the aching scar on her left ribs roared with searing pain.

Through her moaning, groaning, and big, fat tears, Isla heard the quick patter of heavy footsteps. Surely she would be arrested now for trespassing. Or worse, taken as a prisoner or slave.

Her eyelids shut tightly as Isla warned off the impending introduction of someone else new, her naked body shaking with wet cold.

The footsteps stopped as someone ran up a set of nearby stairs, motions rumbling the poorly constructed stage.

"Oh my," Isla heard a man gasp before the footsteps retreated back down the stairs before hastily jumping back up a moment later. The man came closer and Isla froze as a warm blanket was thrown over her shivering body. Her blonde head turned, curls plastered to her face from the rain, looking up hesitantly to see a handsome dark-haired, young man in his late twenties staring at her expectantly.

"Miss," he urged her, "Are you alright?"

Isla nodded nervously as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself before moving slowly to sit up, her aching muscles protesting her motions as she grimaced through it.

"Yes, I'm fine," she gritted out, obviously not fine.

He arched a perfect eyebrow over a light green eye and his trimmed beard and mustache twitched as he attempted to hide a grin. "Here, let me help you inside. I'll put on some tea and we'll find you some clothes."

Isla reluctantly grasped his outstretched hand, clutching the blanket tighter as she braced herself on his weight as she stood.

"Do you just have random women's clothing lying around?" She asked anxiously as the young man chuckled deeply, the warm sound echoing in Isla's chest despite the loud storm overhead.

"My dear," he said, weaving his arm through Isla's as he guided her down the rickety stairs to a darkened doorway with light seeping under the cracks. "This is a theater. There are costumes for everyone here."

Isla blushed but followed as the stranger led her inside to a warmly lit room with a desk covered in parchments in one corner, couches strewn about, and a large fireplace on one stone wall. The man dropped her arm and quickly darted back out the door as Isla wandered to the fire, only to reappear minutes later carrying a thick nightgown.

"Here you go," he said, handing her the garment before turning his back and allowing her to slip the gown over her head to slide down her shivering body.

"Thank you," Isla said humbly, grabbing his attention as the man turned around. "I don't mean to impose but if I can stay here for the night, I would appreciate it greatly."

The young man grinned and stepped closer. "It would be my honor," he stated superciliously, "to house and protect a beautiful lady such as you, Miss ..."

"Isla," she finished for him. His smile widening at the peculiarity of her name.

"Romantic name for a romantically wonderful woman," he complimented.

Isla blushed, turning her head bashfully before gazing at him flirtatiously.

"And who are you, kind sir?"

The dark haired young man walked forward until he was a meter away, dropping to his knee to dramatically grab Isla's hand and bring it to his lips to kiss the back with a flourish, deepening her blush.

"I, madam, am William Shakespeare."

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**A/N: thank you for reading! Sorry for the badly written Scottish brogue, I don't think the accent quite translates in my head. Anyways, we're getting into the juicy bits now and I would absolutely adore some reviews! **


	7. To Be or Not To Be

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any characters or ideas representative of the Harry Potter series or JK Rowling. The only things that are mine are the OC's and the plot line. **

**Also, all historical facts, depictions, and personas are as accurate as possible. Any variation from the original historical portrayals will be noted as such. **

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**Chapter Seven – To Be or Not To Be**

"William Shakespeare?" Isla repeated incredulously, her mouth hanging open as her blonde eyebrows climbed into her hairline.

The dark haired author seemed to blush, his black eyelashes resting against his smiling cheeks before he met Isla's gaze. "So you've heard of me then?" He asked hopefully.

She inhaled and blew the breath out in a loud huff. Her eyes returned to their normal size and her hands reached to fidget nervously when Isla said, "Yes. You could say that."

William grinned further, the smile showing his slightly yellow teeth. "Have you seen any of my plays?" He asked wholeheartedly, eagerness enveloping his body language as he stood.

"Oh yes," she immediately responded, her words catching as she realized she was about to overindulge the greatest playwright by praising him for works which he had not penned yet.

"Which ones?" William's excitement was bubbling as he continued rapidly, "Did you see them here, in London?"

Understanding dawned again as Isla was completely shocked at the realization that she was standing in the site for what would become the original Globe Theatre. She was not visiting the 500 year old remnants of the once great theater, she was here before it was new and being used thoroughly by male actors portraying all roles. She had seen many of Shakespeare's plays reenacted at this very same spot but the gravity of her current situation, the opportunities this mistake was allowing her to have, brought a smile to her full lips as Isla nodded hesitantly.

"You could say that."

William nodded in return, his trimmed mustache twitching as his lips separated further to speak.

"Well I must implore you to stay here and view the magic of the theater. You can enjoy the shows and get a look at the behind the scenes action. Soon we will be debuting my newest prose, _A Midsummer Night's Dream."_ William's handsome face brightened in the dim room as he stepped forward to place both hands on Isla's nightgown clad shoulders, grasping gently. "You are in for a treat, Isla."

The blonde witch easily agreed as the idea of locating the pendant of Ophelia was tossed from her train of thought.

"It would be my honor!" Isla gushed, brazenly wrapping her arms around William's torso as she pressed herself against his chest in a tight hug. The young man returned her gesture with enthusiasm, pulling back to stare at his new, beautiful friend before bending his head to kiss her lightly on the cheek. Isla jumped a touch but instantly grinned to cover her surprised reaction.

"Now let's get you settled in for the night. You can take my bed and I will sleep here in the study."

"No, I can't," Isla protested.

"I insist," William remarked as he physically turned Isla to slowly walk her across the room to a shadowed doorway. "A gentleman would never allow a lady to lay her head on anything less than a soft pillow and bedding."

She hmph'ed in response as his thin arm steeled past their bodies to clutch the doorknob and twist, the door creaking open with a small push. The room was small; a single bed pushed into a corner under a curtained square window and an open trunk against the opposite wall the main possessions within. William moved past Isla to quickly pick up discarded knickers and dirty shirts, shoving them into the mouth of the trunk before pulling the lid shut with a muffled bang. Sparse papers and scraps of parchment were scattered about but Isla was cautious not to step on anything as she walked across the space on sit on the edge of the bed, gazing admirably at William when he turned around to grin naturally.

The open door brought in the majority of the light in the room and he moved to ease the curtain back as dull moonlight filtered through the storm, bolts of lightning brightening the bedroom for scant seconds.

"Thank you," Isla said after a moment's silence. "Thank you for taking me in and not throwing me out on the streets when a crazy woman appeared in the middle of your theater in the middle of the night. I do not think many men would have been as kind as you."

William stepped forward to stand in front of Isla, his ruffled coat swaying as his knees bent and he crouched to become eye level with her, his hands firmly holding the mattress on either side of Isla's thighs to steady himself.

"The pleasure is all mine," he whispered, the corners of his lips pulling up as a calloused hand reached past the space between their bodies to brush an errant, damp curl off Isla's face. She shivered under his light touch and her breathing held as William's deep brown eyes thoroughly examined her face. Her own blue eyes fluttered anxiously when his dark head leaned forward, his warm breath beating across her panting chest.

Relief and slight disappointment fluttered in her stomach when the bristles of his beard scratched her face as his soft lips left a heated kiss against her cheek. William leaned back before standing up once more, straightening his back as he stared at Isla, nodding once before turning to walk out the open door. He paused in the entryway, grabbing the handle to shut it behind him as he glanced back at Isla, sitting stock still as her blue eyes were locked to his form.

"Goodnight, love," he affirmed, his deep voice gravelly carrying across the room to wrap tightly around Isla, distantly reminding her of another man who so often called her the same.

The door closed behind him and Isla fell backwards on the bed, a sigh escaping her lips as her eyes readjusted to the darkness. Uneven wooden boards constructed the small room and as Isla lay on the thin mattress, thoughts running at light speed, she distractedly counted the number of seams between the planks until her blue eyes grew heavy and fell shut on their own accord.

The following morning she was awoken by loud shuffling and the banging of objects in the next room. Isla groaned tiredly, her body protesting as she threw the warm blanket off her tangled legs and the cold air enveloped her still semi-asleep body, standing groggily as she stumbled across the room to open the door. She was yawning wide when she stepped into the crowded workspace that she had first arrived to last night.

A sandy blonde haired man was doubled over the table in the far corner, his brown trousers and dingy socks looking far dirtier than the immaculate white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscled forearms. Isla stepped further into room, clearing her throat to alert the man to her presence rather than scare him half to death when she tapped him on the shoulder.

The man whipped around, parchment clutched in one hand and a quill in the other, his chocolate eyes bulging when he saw Isla. His face turned a bright shade of red when he glanced down to see her wearing just a flimsy, albeit floor length and completely covering, nightgown. His body turned once more as the writing instrument dropped to the wooden table with a clatter, his hand immediately reaching up to shield his eyes.

"I'm sorry, miss," he stuttered. "I didn't know William had a visitor. I'll - I'll just be - just be going then." The tall man jumped to the side but his leg hit a heavy chair and he groaned in short pain as he shuffled to move around the furniture.

Isla sighed, another yawn forming as she put up a hand to stop the man, his movements halting as his peripheral vision caught her motion.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said after her mouth closed over a yawn. "Stay and finish whatever you were doing."

She had sat down on the stiff couch and the man glanced over his shoulder as she crossed her arms and tossed her head back against the wooden trim of the sofa. His torso turned halfway and he was still staring at Isla when her head lolled to the side and looked up to his face. He quickly looked away but his body shifted until he slowly walked back over to the table, the parchment sealed in his hand falling lightly to rest with the stacks of other random pieces.

"I'm Isla," she stated unobtrusively, her folded arms resting on the back of the couch as her torso turned to face the man in the room.

"Charles Worthington," he said briskly, his sandy blonde head rotating to show a forced smile.

"Pleased," Isla remarked.

He nodded in return and promptly turned back to peer through the various piles of papers. Her blue eyes shut once more as Isla's curly head laid against the crook of her arms, her breathing slowing to match the second loudest noise in the room, Charles' loud intake of air.

Sleep was just coming back to her, clawing its way to surrender her unconscious, when Charles inhaled sharply as he ripped a torn parchment from its position at the bottom of the papers, grinning triumphantly and proudly saying, "Ah ha!", to himself.

Isla jerked up, her frizzy curls bouncing every which way as her eyes adjusted to the lighting.

"What is it?" She asked groggily.

Charles turned on his heel, eyebrows raised as if he just remembered she were there. His chocolate eyes widened then narrowed suspiciously as he watched Isla yawn and stretch her arms over her head, her bare breasts pressing against the cotton material and forming small impressions where her hardened nipples were. She glanced back up as Charles was openly staring at her chest and one blonde eyebrow cocked and a slight frown formed before she cleared her throat lightly, jolting Charles and causing him to blush immediately, looking away embarrassed.

"You're a friend of William's then?" He queried suddenly, slowly rotating his head to meet Isla's sapphire eyes.

She thought about it and said, "Yes, you could say that."

Charles glanced about nervously, obviously uncomfortable with her 'scantily' clad body. Isla realized his discomfort and unfolded her legs to stand and walk around to the opposite side of the couch, leaning backwards on the wooden trim as she stood just in front of Charles, her arms wrapping around her torso to push her breasts up further. He seemed to twitch at her heightened proximity and attempted to look everywhere but at her as he shuffled from foot to foot, the parchment still grasped firmly in both hands.

"I'll be staying here for a little while, if it makes any difference," Isla offered, a smirk forming as a reddening blush swept up his neck and flourished over Charles' cheeks

"All - alright," he stuttered, his mocha eyes flitting across her face as he continued scanning the room.

Isla dropped her arms, her smirk widening when Charles flinched when she took a small step forward. She moved closer still as his gaze focused on her now. He could not move but he felt himself leaning backwards as Isla deftly raised a dainty hand, opening her mouth to slip her tongue out and gratuitously lick the pad of her thumb, her devilish blue eyes never leaving Charles' face as he watched her motions. Her hand moved across the distance and with an evil grin in place, Isla reached up to briskly wipe at an invisible spot of ink. Her thumb gently rubbed out the spot and continued to touch his face as Charles swayed her under touch. From her stance Isla could very clearly see the definition of his cock straining against the fabric of his trousers, the material scarcely concealing his erection.

Isla scrunched her nose, her smirk widening as her hand suddenly pulled back from his face and Charles widened his eyes, inhaling sharply as the turning of the lock and grinding of the hinges indicated the arrival of someone into the small room. Isla glanced to her right as the door opened and gently stepped backwards to put space between her and Charles as she maliciously grinned at his jerking, anxious motions as William appeared in the doorway with his arms full of gowns and dresses, his handsome face pulled into a wide smile as he looked at both of them standing there.

"Good morning," he lightly greeted Isla, a winning smile flashing as she grinned back.

"G'morning," she responded happily.

Their gazes did not break as William gently pushed the door shut, removing a majority of the light that had briefly lit the room. Neither could stop smiling and Isla had to turn her head flirtatiously before William cleared his throat and turned his gaze to Charles.

"Sir, I found the sheet you were looking for," he proclaimed meekly, one hand staying below his waist to cover the bulge in his pants as best he could while the other hand lifted to give the piece of parchment to William as he strode forward into the room.

"Excellent," William replied, pausing to unload the plethora of dresses over the back of the couch, his hip brushing against Isla selectively, before turning to grasp the paper from Charles. He scanned the page quickly, nodding his dark curls agreeably and glancing back up to Charles expectantly.

The blonde haired man appeared to be waiting to be told what to do, his hands once more fidgeting in front of his body. William rotated his wrist, waving his hand and the paper, indicating for Charles to speak if he was going to keep standing there. When he did not say anything but kept his eyebrows raised hesitantly, William sighed lightly and said, "That's all, Charles. Go back out and help Theodore and Marcius with the sets and staging."

Charles nodded curtly, relief escaping him in an obvious sigh as he hurried past William to cross the room and grab the handle of the door, bathing the space in cloudy light for another moment before it shut behind him. William turned back to Isla, her stance stiffening as his full attention returned to her and he quickly crossed the short space to firmly grasp her head between both his large hands, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to her slightly parted lips. Just as easily, he stepped back and removed his warm hands, stepping to the side to pick up the top dress on the pile strewn over the couch.

The bodice seemed stiff, thin wooden slats easily seen serving as a corset, garishly decorated with stitching and weavings of a roped gold that ostentatiously wound across the shoulders and down the sleeves. Not to mention the horribly, bright shade of hot pink.

William tossed it aside to reveal a similar costumed dress in a sunshine yellow, the gold replaced with silver but the neckline appeared deeper and the skirt wider. The next dress was similar to the expensive gown that Isla had worn at the Malfoi Manor before she had escaped. The royal blue velvet begged to be touched and before she could help herself, Isla was next to William, her hand gently stroking the soft material of the dress. William smirked next to her, their barely even height allowing him to glance smoothly at her lit up face without turning his head.

"Would you like to wear this one today?" He asked pleasantly, his grin lifting the inflection of his voice as he smiled wide. "It would look lovely with your gorgeous eyes."

Isla broke her lusty gaze with the gown and bashfully glanced at William as her lips turned up in a smile but her teeth nipped at her bottom lip to bite it hesitantly. Her hand lifted and dropped from the dress as she said, "No. This has too much pomp for me to just wear around on an ordinary day." Turning her torso towards William, Isla questioned chuckling lightly, "Is there something - simpler? Something that won't make me look like I'm going to a ball later tonight?"

William dramatically inhaled, a jeweled hand rising to press against his chest as his dark eyebrows rose, his chocolate eyes widened, and he stated theatrically, "Simple? You my dear, should never wear _anything_ simple. But if you are looking to wear a dress of dignified anonymity," his hands shuffled through the various fabrics of the pile before they clutched a snippet of pale blue cotton and pulled the dress from the middle of the stack, "this is what I have for you."

The rest of the discarded dresses fell in a heap over the couch as William held the dress a loft, a pleased smile turning up his lips when Isla stepped forward, her small hand lightly fingering the dress as a slow smile crept over her face. The dress was the palest blue of a cloudless, spring sky. The box neckline was framed in a simple lace border that also ran around the edges of the sleeves. The waist cinched in the middle but there was no binding wood or tightening strings to keep the wearer encased. Isla glanced at William and gestured with her hand, gripping a sleeve as she said, "May I?"

He nodded rapidly, pushing the dress into her hands as he said, "By all means."

Without hesitation Isla turned around and walked until she was facing a corner. She pulled up the nightgown until it was bunched around her naked hips and bent down to press the blue dress between her knees, pressing them together to hold it in place while she grabbed the bottom of the nightgown and pulled it over her head, the sleeves turning inside out as they slipped off her arms. Isla knew William had not turned around and she could feel his heated stare on her nude backside as she doubled over again to grab the dress and straighten it out before turning it upside down to slip her arms inside. The dress came down snuggly and was declared a perfect fit as Isla adjusted herself.

Turning around, William was grinning, clasping his hands as the bejeweled fingers sparkled in the ever present fire light. Isla blushed lightly, her fingers clutching at the skirt of the dress as she curtsied, her blonde curls falling over her shoulders.

"Stunning, darling. Absolutely stunning," William commented, his arms spreading wide as if he deserved all the credit himself.

Isla paced forward slowly until she was standing just before William, watching as his chocolate eyes devoured her movements with unrestrained eagerness.

"William," she started, her blue eyes falling to the floor as she got her words in line, glancing back up to his expectant face. "I know we haven't spoken about why I am here or anything about me at all, but you should know that I do have a boyfriend." When he blankly stared at her, she ran through a list of other phrases and said, "I have a suitor, a man who is courting me?" William nodded in recognition, his eyes narrowing as Isla continued. "I do not wish for you to get the wrong impression of me. I need help looking for something and I couldn't think of a better person than you."

William's eyebrows rose quizzically, his bearded jaw opening to form many questions.

"What are you implying? That I was intending to take advantage of you, fair Isla?"

Her mouth fell open and Isla raised a small hand to protest. "No, no. That is not what I am saying at all. What I meant was, I - uh - shit." Isla groaned in frustration and William chuckled lightly at her misguided attempts to speak. "What I meant was I understand how men and women ... work in the courts. Not everyone is faithful. But I am not accustomed to such behaviors and I would appreciate it if you would respect my wishes."

William looked impressed, his arms having crossed over his chest as he thoughtfully gazed at Isla.

"I have never had a woman speak so openly before," he said. "I find that was refreshing."

Isla grinned hesitantly, her teeth barely showing as her blue eyes watched William with caution. There was always a but.

Sure enough, his lips twitched and parted once more, one dark eyebrow cocking as his brown eyes sparkled mischievously.

"I will follow your rules, Isla. But as long as I do not see a gentleman by your side, waiting on your every want and need, I will pursue you. You are a very beautiful woman, Isla, and any man who claims to love you would never stray from your side."

_What do you say to that?_ She thought as Isla dumbly stared at William, her jaw having gone slack and her eyes wide in disbelief at the sincerity behind his words.

"I - uh - I - William, I-" was all Isla managed to sputter before a rapid knocking on the wooden door diverted their attention, opening to reveal a young boy of no more than fifteen, his innocent eagerness and stubble free face acting as a refreshing change up.

William glanced at the boy, irritation furrowing his brows as the lad stopped, his smile dropping fearfully.

"Yes, Marcius?" William drawled, the boy stiffening when his name was uttered.

"We have everything ready, Sir," Marcius squeaked, his hazel eyes wide as he quickly glanced at Isla.

William caught his distraction and looked to Isla as well, sighing heavily as his eyes dropped and a hand reached to grab her smaller one, lacing their fingers together before bringing them up to softly kiss the back of her hand. Isla suppressed the shiver that itched to roll down her spine as William's earthy eyes refused to leave her gaze, his warm lips still felt on her skin. Then his hand dropped before snaking through the crook of her elbow to pull her to his side.

"Come now," William said, dragging Isla with his steps as he moved past Marcius. "Rehearsals must start. You can sit in the balcony and act as the audience, tell me how to improve my already masterful work of art."

"Are all poets as dramatic and self-indulged as you are?" Isla quipped, her honesty taken as sarcasm as William grinned arrogantly.

"You can only hope," he replied, winking flirtatiously as he pulled Isla through the open doorway and into the brightened daytime. William ushered her up a rickety set of stairs until she was sitting on a hard bench above the entrance to the theater, directly facing the stage. He grinned enthusiastically at her from the front of the stage and Isla watched with eager wonder as a very long rehearsal turned into the most awe inspiring day of her life. A day of watching William Shakespeare and company perform live had never been on her list of things to do in her life but now that she was witnessing the event, Isla could not say that she would ever complain at this turn of events.

**.**

While Isla was off traipsing around 16th century London, mingling and associating with royalty he was sure, Draco was forced to endure confinement to the Malfoi Manor under the stern orders from Lady Kaelina that he was to recover properly. The Lord and Lady had not batted any eye at Isla's sudden, overnight disappearance. Kaelina had frowned and thickly pronounced that she would return, wrongfully assuming that Isla had fled in horror at their current situation and anger at Draco. Indeed, Draco was furious at the witch for abandoning him when he was vulnerable. Draco Malfoy was not one to usually bemoan his bad luck and share the burden of his mistakes with someone else but he felt unjustly wronged after Isla had left. What was he to tell their hosts as to how they arrived in 16th century Scotland? How would he explain his loss of memories without it sounding like a pathetic excuse for his random appearance?

The situation was not as dire as Draco imagined it to be. He was moved to a larger guest bedroom just down the hall from his previous room, the new accommodations containing a short balcony that overlooked the wide, grassy meadow in front of the house. The room was still bitingly cold from the heatless stones constructing the old home but Draco made sure to keep the fireplace blazing as he laid about, his injuries steadily healing without the help of magic.

After a day of resting, Draco was bored and brimming with anxious energy. His long legs begged to stretch under the strain of exercise. His lungs ached for the fresh air of the sea that his body was craving after waking in the familiar house. Draco was painfully impatient to find a broom and rise into the whispy clouds as he flew through the blue skies of a clear day. Instead, Draco was stuck inside as the ever changing weather prevented him any reprieve from the stuffy manor.

On his second day without Isla around, Draco was able to dress in a matching outfit of black britches, socks, and a white flowing shirt before finding his way downstairs to arrive in the spacious dining room for breakfast. Arcturas and Kaelina were already seated at the table, a strawberry haired boy sitting next to the Lady as she kindly admonished his lack of etiquette when eating. Draco smirked as his precise footsteps echoed on the stone floor, his entrance catching the attention of the small family as each member glanced up to smile happily at their guest.

"Ah, Draco," Arcturas greeted, his silver fork dropping to his plate of half eaten eggs and toast as the blonde haired man leaned back in his over sized chair to examine Draco as he walked. "Glad ye finally up. We was beginning ta think ye were nocturnal."

Draco grinned handsomely, cocking his head a touch as he said, "Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day. I wouldn't miss it for all the alcohol in the world." Arcturas chuckled and nodded in agreement as Draco strode closer.

His steps carried him across the room and Draco easily paused to bend forward to press a kiss to Kaelina's proffered cheek, straightening as he turned his attention to the young boy who was staring at him intently.

"Who er ye?" The pink haired child asked, curiosity sparkling in his vibrant green eyes.

"Dylon, don't be rude!" Kaelina shrieked, her raised voice catching her son in a fit of remorse as he ducked his head bashfully to look away from Draco. "Me apologies, Draco. He's a wee lad of three."

"'ree 'nd 'ree quartas!" Dylon protested, puffing his chest as if he were a man himself and turned his cherubic face to Draco.

The tall, blonde wizard bent his knees and stuck his hand out to the little boy. "I'm Draco."

Dylon straightened out his facial features, an eerily familiar mask of calm taking over the three year old as his chubby hand extended to grasp Draco's long fingers in a handshake. Both smiled amicably while Kaelina grinned with pride and Arcturas nodded approvingly. Draco removed his hold and stood to move around the table to sit down on Arcturas' right as Dylon's emerald eyes followed his every step.

Draco ate without ceasing for several minutes, his complete starvation ravishing the table of a majority of the breakfast treats. If it was laid out on a plate, with or without a serving utensil, Draco devoured it and then asked for more. When he took a breather to allow his pants to adjust to his slightly expanded stomach, Kaelina looked up and started a conversation.

"Draco, if ye rememba, I was tellin ye lass tha otha night, James es comin fa suppa en ah feh days time." He strained an ear to hear her better and understand her words through her heavy accent. "Nothin' ta woory aboot. Just sta' weel rested 'til than."

"I would do nothing less," Draco responded. "It is my honor to be your guest while Scottish royalty is present," he said, his manners kicking in to remind them of his gratitude.

Kaelina beamed, Arcturas nodded agreeably, and Dylon stoically looked between the grownups as he processed the information being passed about.

"James es comin', mama?" He asked, turning his pink head to Kaelina.

"Yes, ma 'ittle handsome lad. James well be 'ere 'nd 'e mentioned ah gift fa ye birfday." Her fiery eyebrows rose questioningly and her lips smeared into a grin as Dylon's eyes lit up and his excitement bubbled over.

His strawberry head swiveled to look at Draco as the blonde man met his gaze expectantly.

"I'm gonna ba four!" He pronounced proudly.

"Four?" Draco dramatically questioned, earning a giggling grin from the young child. "But I thought you said you were six? You look awfully big to only be turning four." His grey eyes narrowed suspiciously and Dylon giggled further, the tinkling sound bringing a satisfied smile to both parents' faces.

"I'm gonna ba four!" Dylon repeated, his chubby fingers pressing forward to show Draco that he knew how to count.

"'e's ma big boy," Kaelina proudly stated, two fingers pinching together as she grabbed hold of Dylon's cheek and jiggled the baby fat.

"Ah ma!" The child said, his small hand reaching back push away her touch away.

"'e thinks 'e's too old ahready fa 'e's mother's affections," Kaelina laughed, sitting back to lean against her chair once more.

Draco shook his head in amazement, his blonde locks brushing his shoulders and his fleshy beard twitching as he smiled genuinely. "That will change one day," he promised, his grey eyes turning back to Dylon as the young boy eagerly reached to pick up a sausage link with his fingers, chubby digits grasping the slippery food as he took small bites.

A sense of anxiousness crept across Draco's shoulders and he felt his nerves tense as Dylon looked up merrily, grease smearing around his red lips as the boy smiled enthusiastically. There was something he was forgetting. Something about why he was here, in 1591, that irked him at the back of his mind. The small child urged a sense of panic in Draco as he frantically searched his blank memories for an indication as to why.

_Do I have a son?_ Draco randomly thought. _Am I subconsciously missing my own child that I can't remember? _

The idea placed an even more nervous, shivering chill through Draco's body as he pushed back his chair to abruptly leave the table. Kaelina and Dylon looked up in surprise, while Arcturas seemed to have been watching Draco silently the entire time. His wide palms flattened against the wooden table and Draco leaned his weight forward to graciously smile at Kaelina then Arcturas before saying, "Thank you for breakfast. It was truly delicious. Now if you'll excuse me."

Draco nodded curtly at the adults, Kaelina smiling with bewilderment as Dylon scrambled to escape the confines of his chair and wiggle to the ground, loudly chasing after Draco as he strode from the dining room.

"'raco! 'raco!" Dylon called, halting the blonde wizards hurried steps as he turned at the large doors, an appeasing smile forcefully turning up his lips as the small child hurriedly approached.

"'raco, where ah ye goin?" Dylon asked excitedly, his mini trousers and billowy shirt sliding across his tiny frame.

"Just going to take a walk, maybe explore the forests if it's nice outside."

Dylon eagerly bent his head back to stare up at Draco, their similar features taking on different emotions as he questioned, "Can aye come wih ya?"

Before Draco could open his mouth to repky, Dylon instantly turned and ran back across the room to stumble against Kaelina's chair as he gripped her larger hand and begged, "Mama, mama, can aye go wih 'raco? Pwease!"

Draco sighed heavily, realizing his day of solitude was going to be interrupted by the presence of the young boy, and Kaelina glanced across the room to meet his grey eyed gaze steadily.

"Would ye mind, Draco?" The redhead asked hesitantly. "Dylon loves the woods."

_As if that makes up for the fact that I wanted to be alone, _Draco thought angrily, his thinkings growing bitter as the strawberry haired boy jumped up and down in front Kaelina, his young enthusiasm ready to turn sour if he did not get his way.

"Sure," Draco responded when it looked like Dylon was about to explode in tears as Kaelina slowly began shaking her head no at her young son. "Come on, Dylon. Let's go find an adventure."

The boy turned, releasing his mother's hand as he sprinted back across the room to wrap his arms around Draco's knee, his small head leaning against his muscled thigh as Dylon grinned happily. _This is going to be a long day, _he thought as he moved to turn and leave with room, the small child still grasping firmly to his leg as he lifted the appendage with dramatic force, earning a giggle from Dylon as his anger ebbed away and Draco pseudo carried the boy from the room and outside.

The air was crisp and salty when the pair finally made it past the front doors. Dylon was eagerly chatting away about whatever four year olds babbled on about nonsensically. Draco was nodding and uh-huh-ing appropriately and the strawberry haired boy continued rambling as they walked over the grassy meadow and approached the treeline of the forests. Dylon stopped talking when Draco paused, glancing up and down the edge of the woods.

"'hat es et, 'raco?" The boy asked cheerfully.

Draco peered at the child as his small head swiveled from side to side, mimicking his actions as if he were searching for something in the shadowed trees. He did not respond to the question but picked up his feet and began walking into the forest. His wand had appeared from out his pocket and Draco casually twirled it between his long fingers as the patter of Dylon's short steps caught up to his longer gait.

"Es 'hat ah wand?" Dylon breathed, his words spaced out as his little lungs heaved for air. His out of breath run did not slow him down and the child continued speaking. "Me da 'as ah wand too. 'is isn't as nice as yers, 'raco. Can aye hold et?"

Once more, and not for the last time, Draco glanced down at the eager boy irritably. His grey eyes narrowed and he wondered if the child was purposefully being annoying or if Kaelina and Arcturas had just not taught him the useful recognition of someone's body language. His broad shoulders turned and he kept walking as if Dylon had not spoken. The boy did not seem to notice and quickly rambled on about the next item that caught his short attention span.

"'raco, what da ya want ta do? We can go ta tha cliffs where tha ocean is! Or we can go ta ma secret spoot!" Dylon over-eagerly suggested, his pink head bobbing up and down as he trotted beside Draco, walking further into the wooded forest.

"What do you want to, Dylon?" Draco asked without interest. He may have agreed to bring the boy with him but he did not see the harm in letting the child run free for a bit while he moroselly thought about his life.

"Anythin ye want ta do," he replied immediately. "Aye just want ta play with ye, 'ncle 'raco."

His heart jerked painfully and Draco sighed as a slight guilt blossomed for wanting to get rid of Dylon for his own pity party. The boy was obviously enthralled with the idea of spending the day with Draco and he had wanted to ditch the kid_. Shite. What am I doing?_ Draco thought. _This kid doesn't deserve my angry tirade._

"Come on, Dylon," Draco responded after a moment, garnering Dylon's attention as his big, emerald eyes joyfully looked up at him. "Show me where this secret spot is."

The boy's eyes lit up and his small hand reached up to joyfully grasp Draco's fingers, surprisingly strong as he began running and pulled him in a random direction.

"Et's my favourite spoot! Et's 'his 'ree 'hat wers emptied!" Dylon yanked on Draco's hand, going as fast as his little legs would take him as Draco ambled behind him, slightly bent over as the small hand pulled him forward.

Whether he consciously realized it, or in this case, did not, Draco was slowly experiencing life through the magical eyes of a child once more. His aggravated soul needed soothing from the harsh realities that had forced his brain into an amnesia state. Engaging with Dylon would ease his stressful thoughts and unintentionally prepare him for what was soon to be in his future.

Assuming that they were able to return.

**.**

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**A/N:**

**Wow! Two chapters in one week! Hopefully this will be the regular update schedule for the rest of the story but college and work can still get in the way so some may not be as prompt. **

**As always, I love and adore reviews. This is somewhat of a filler chapter but feedback is still appreciated on the lesser actiony of the chapters. **

**Please and thank you :)**


	8. Of Royalty and Poetry

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any characters or ideas representative of the Harry Potter series or JK Rowling. The only things that are mine are the OC's and the plot line. **

**Also, all historical facts, depictions, and personas are as accurate as possible. Any variation from the original historical portrayals will be noted as such. My apologies if this story begins to take on too much of a historical standpoint. Somehow this plot didn't seem so in depth and research heavy when the first thought ran through my head. **

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**Chapter Eight – Of Royalty and Poetry **

A fortnight passed; long days spent under the rainy clouds of London and even longer days were eclipsed on the northeastern shore of Scotland.

Draco grew to tolerate and bitingly enjoy the constant presence of Dylon, the three year old always running around his feet in hopes of enrapturing Draco's persistent ignorance. The handsome blonde wizard was able to forget about the lapse in time and his memories. He was able to grow in comfort and easily fell into the lifestyle at the Scottish Manor, blissfully unaware of his predicament until he returned to his room every night and glanced at the pile of Isla's things on the corner of his dresser. He wondered if his mysterious 'girlfriend' would ever return as she had promised, with any luck bringing that damned necklace with her. Draco was adamantly curious about her but knew there was no one he could speak to about her whereabouts or what she was after.

Arcturas and Kaelina were very powerful magically, never openly displaying their secret in front of the Muggle servants but cautious to use it when needed. As of today, they were both in a flurry about the arrival of King James for dinner that evening. His Highness was traveling to Inverness but would be staying at the Manor for the night before departing for the rest of his journey in the morning.

Draco had wandered about asking if anyone needed assistance with preparations but they all shooed him away, scoffing that he was a guest as well and would be treated as such. With nothing else to do, Draco found his way to the stone library, pulling open the wooden doors forcefully as a cool draft blew through the opening.

A hand rose to rub the rough bristles of his cheek as Draco paused at the entrance to the many rows of book shelves. Realizing that any texts he would have previously read would not be in existence yet, Draco gently strolled each aisle, head sideways as he peered at the various titles.

Interestingly enough, there was a hidden shelf against the back wall, a large curtain pulled in front of it so the less noisy passerby would not notice it. Draco caught the wooden foot of the shelf from the corner of his grey eyes and doubled back to grip of the edge of the thick fabric to expose the rows of books bound in dark leathers, their titles glinting suggestively down the spines.

Draco placed a hand on the closet text and pulled it from its place, turning it sideways to read its name.

_History of Dark Wizards. _

He snorted sardonically, his lips turning up in a smirk as Draco realized he had stumbled upon the Malfoy's burgeoning collection of Dark Arts memorabilia. The last he remembered, the Manor in Surrey contained a large section with the many tomes pertaining to Dark Magic from over the many centuries. Surely some of these books here were in his childhood home.

Draco replaced the book and quickly thumbed along the other titles before an idea bubble burst and he methodically searched for one text in particular.

_It has to be here,_ he thought hopefully_. It should be here._

A grin bared his white teeth through the thicket of his trimmed beard as Draco tore the book he was searching for from the shelf. The blood red leather was fairly new, still strong and soft to the touch, and the gold lettering on the front proclaimed its title.

_Artifacts, Relics, and Mysteries of the Dark Arts. _

Draco peeled open the cover and turned the first few pages until he saw the copyright date at the bottom next to the author's illegible signature. _1587._ The date would be innocuous if the book did not contain the information he was searching for, if what Isla had said was true, then he would be able to read about the beginnings of the pendant of Ophelia in a current Dark Arts text.

Walking back through the aisles, large book laid across his forearm, Draco sat down at a wooden table in the middle of the library as he grasped an oil lamp to bring the light closer to his reading material. The tip of his index finger brushed down a crisp page before stopping and moving to the right as he located the page number. Flipping carefully the sheets fluttered until they fell open to the right page.

Clearly drawn in the middle of the page was a replica of the necklace. Draco surmised from the tangled mess of gold that the pendant had been fairly large. This picture seemed to be drawn to scale and Draco peered at the intricacies of the detailed necklace before glancing at the column of description next to the image.

_The pendant of Ophelia is rumored to have been forged in the depths of the Apennine Mountains in the northern parts of Italy by the infamous Dark wizard, Antonio Mercioni. The large, dark amethyst was cursed, he claimed. Bound to take it's wearer through time. Mercioni traveled to France in search of buyers for the jewelry but no wizard dared purchase the item. Mercioni was later driven mad with desire to activate the curse and killed himself accidentally when trying to flee the city in a drunken stupor. Whereabouts of the pendant of Ophelia were unknown, many wizards assuming it was stolen on the death bed of Mercioni and sold to Muggles for a small fortune. _

He waited on baited breath until his eyes reached the end of the paragraph and Draco growled in disappointment at the lack of information. His large hand slammed the book shut and he bent his blonde head in frustration.

_I hope she's right,_ he thought. _Isla better know what she's doing._

The large wooden doors creaked open from somewhere to his left and Draco lifted his head, on guard as the small patter of footsteps came closer. A shadow rounded the corner of the shelves and Draco arched an eyebrow as SeaSea the house elf trotted into sight, a lantern held high in one hand and the fidgeting, small hand of Dylon in the other.

"'raco!" The boy shrilled, his chubby cheeks glowing as he sprinted forward, SeaSea stumbling slightly as Dylon unleashed from her grasp and took off across the short distance to Draco.

The eager pink haired child slammed against the chair as Draco looked down at him, the boy all smiles as he wrinkled his dress attire.

"'raco, 'raco! James es coomin'!" He shouted, his voice louder than normally intended in a library. "Ya gots ta get reedy fa dinna!"

Draco cocked an eyebrow and gave Dylon an incredulous stare at the child reached for his arm and attempted to pull him from the chair. When that did not work, his small hands fisted in the fabric of his pant leg and yanked

"Coom on! Mama told me ta get ya!"

"Ok, ok. I'll go, Dylon." Draco rose from the chair as the boy pulled on his pants, rushing him to the exit as Draco glanced back at the Dark book on the table.

The flickering light of her lantern caught his eye and Draco pointedly looked to SeaSea.

"Put that book back in its place?" He prompted, garnering a sharp nod from the elf as she moved to retrieve the text and Draco stammered, "Thank you."

Draco ended up chasing Dylon up with stone stairs as the little boy dodged Draco's attempts to catch him, giggling merrily as he hit the bedroom door before reaching up to pull down the handle and throw himself inside. Draco was right behind the boy and he rounded the corner as the strawberry haired head ducked behind the other side of the bed. Draco paused and crossed him arms in front of him, pacing slowly as one hand playfully scratched his head in confusion.

"Where did he go? Dylon!" Draco half shouted, falsifying a sense of wonder as if the child were not hiding in plain sight. "Come on Dylon! Quit hiding. We're going to be late for dinner."

His blonde head turned as a giggle erupted from the far side of the room and Draco smirked as his heavy footsteps ominously closed in on the child. Coming around to the far side of the bed Draco noticed the ruffling of the bed curtain and silently leaped forward, unraveling Dylon as the boy laughed and screamed, his pink curls bouncing and his emerald eyes twinkling as Draco lifted him up and lightly tossed him into the middle of the mass of pillows on the bed.

Draco smirked in triumph as Dylon crawled from the pillows to sit with his short legs splayed on either side of him, watching Draco with a heaving chest as he grinned childishly.

The boy sat silently as Draco opened his armoire across the room and stealthily disrobed, his grey eyes flicking out the window to catch the entrance of several carriages as they rolled to a stop in front of the Manor and several foots men rushed to open the small doors for the persons inside. He tucked in a ruffled shirt into his open britches before buttoning them and adjusting his collar before reaching for a dress coat. The black jacket was detailed with silver etchings that matched the details on the hood of the outer most coat that fell to the floor in a swirl of black velvet. Proper occasions called for the proper attire and Kaelina had instructed Draco on what was appropriate dress for a formal dinner.

Dylon was dressed similarly but without the heavy outer cloak, his shiny black shoes dangling off the end of the bed as Draco turned to look him up and down as he secured the cuffs of his sleeves.

"Ya ready to go, mate?" Draco asked, walking to stand in front of Dylon as the boy jumped up to bounce on the bed, an action which he shook his head at humorously as he watched the utter innocence of a child.

"Come on, let's go meet the King," Draco drawled, a touch of nerves hitching his voice as he thought about meeting royalty.

"But aye ahready knows James!" Dylon protested, his cherubic face turning up to Draco as he slid off the bed and stood next to the older wizard.

Draco smiled knowingly and nodded agreeably, "Yes, but I do not."

Dylon blinked once and nodded reasonably, his small lips tightening as he tilted his curly head all the way back to stare at Draco. The boy was not hesitant to drag him once more from the room as Draco anxiously paused, his gut knotting unreasonably with each step they took towards the grand front staircase. He could hear the animated rumble of conversation drawing closer as Dylon trekked along, Draco attempting to falter to break the child's grip and allow him to make his own entrance. Dylon was not having it and eagerly turned around to re grasp Draco's hand and nearly toss him down the first few stairs. Draco righted his stance as his hand gripped the banister, Dylon still tugging him along until they got to a small landing overlooking the entrance hall where everyone was milled about, then Dylon released his hand to sprint down and yell, "Mama! Mama! I foond 'raco!"

A majority of the small crowd stilled as Dylon ran through their legs to find his mother, their curious heads turning to glance back at the stairs as Draco nodded politely and kept his face as calm as possible while gaining each and every eye in the room at his entrance.

Sparse conversation started back but the majority of the people were servants carrying in trunks and luggage and Draco was easily able to spot Arcturas and Kaelina watching fondly as a dark haired young man in a flashy white ensemble was kneeling before Dylon, his jeweled fingers grasping the boy's shoulders as they spoke animatedly. A timid looking fair haired woman stood slightly behind the King and smiled nervously at the scene as Kaelina turned to her and began speaking rapidly.

"'raco!" Dylon yelled with excitement, his overeager greeting focusing the others attention as Draco approached.

The young man stood to his full height, albeit several inches shorter than Draco, and extended a hand in friendly introduction before Draco could open his mouth to speak, his blonde head turned to Arcturas and Kaelina as they brightly smiled at their relative and guest.

"Draco is it?" The King asked pleasantly, his fingers wrapping around Draco's palm as they shook hands. "Aye'm James, Archee has told ma aloot aboot ya en hes leetters."

"It is an honor, my King," Draco stated honestly, his chest dipping slightly as he reverently bowed.

James nodded, smiling as their hands unclasped and he turned his body towards the other woman.

"Thes es ma new bride, Anne," James beamed, the blushing young woman looking no more than sixteen as she demurely dropped her gaze away from Draco.

But again he bowed, dipping his head as he said, "My lady, it is a pleasure to meet you."

The young Scottish Queen teetered, spindly arms twisting as she smiled hesitantly, her large brown eyes widening as her heavy cream dress swayed.

"Shall we adjourn to the dining room?" Arcturas questioned reasonably, offering his arm to Kaelina as they led the way into the adjourning room.

James and Anne followed behind their hosts and Dylon ran to grab Draco's hand as they brought up the rear. The dining table had been shortened to accommodate the appropriate number of guests and as the party sat down, Arcturas and James at separate ends of the table, Draco glanced around to notice the done up decorations of elaborate candelabras, seasonal additives, and a large fireplace added to the back wall to add warmth to the room. The women sat on one side of the table next to their respective husbands, Dylon sitting next to his father and Draco next to the Scottish King.

The gold plates in front of them were auspiciously empty but the swinging of a side service door alerted the table of the entrance of servers as the aroma of a hearty meal wafted through. Several women approached the table and standing behind the chairs on the left, they dispensed appetizers before placing the remaining dishes on the large table.

Utensils were picked up as the clatter of eating commenced. The first few bites of steaming food was devoured before the conversations began.

"D'aco," James started, his black goatee twitching as he chewed. "Wha' brings ya ta tha coast? Archee said ya wers visitin' froom Ang'land?"

Replacing his crude fork on the table Draco nodded affirmatively. "Yes, Your Majesty. I was raised in England but I went to school in Scotland, closer to the northern flats."

"Ahh, ma boy!" James chortled, excitement widening his brown eyes as he licked at his fork. "Ya es Scottish then! 'nd ya can call ma James."

Draco smiled tightly, his peripheral vision noticing the attention of the rest of the table on their conversation, all except Dylon who was happily playing with his food, his chubby fingers sticky from mashing the items together.

"What brings ya here then?" James queried again.

"Holiday," Draco responded, his preplanned answer easily sounding believable. Neither Arcturas nor Kaelina would dispute his story as a Muggle King realizing the existence of magic would not bode well. "My beloved is traveling to meet me here. She has been in London but will be here within a few weeks time."

"Damn!" James exclaimed, pounding his fist merrily against the table as he grinned, glancing about at his fellow dinner mates. "We well joost mees her then. Perhaps wee'll stoop heere again en a few moonths. I woold lave ta meet yer lass, D'aco."

"As would I," Draco mumbled, a grin staying tight as James continued speaking, his accent growing thicker as he thirstily drank the ale, his cheeks reddening as the table grew loud with excitement and friendly banter.

Dinner was festive and as everyone loosened up, Draco found himself enjoying the present company. Still, when Kaelina looked up to notice Dylon curled up in his chair, fast asleep with his thumb in his mouth, Draco quickly offered to take the boy upstairs and put him to bed. Reassuring the adults that he would join them in the lounge when he was finished.

The group stood and stretched, and Draco draped Dylon across his shoulder. They exited the dining room and parted ways, Draco climbing the stairs slowly as Dylon snuggled into his neck.

SeaSea was waiting for them at the smaller bedroom door of the strawberry haired child and Draco graciously smiled when the well dressed elf pushed open the door for him to enter without pausing. Together Draco and SeaSea found his bed clothes and undressed the comatose boy before pulling down his bed dressings and laying him soundly within the sheets. Draco rested a hand against Dylon's cheek and smoothed down his hair, a loving sentiment pulling at his heart as a frown tugged down the corners of his lips.

_Is this what it feels like to have a child? To unconsciously worry about them, even as they are sleeping? _

Draco removed his hand and walked to the door where SeaSea was waiting for him. The elf snapped her fingers and the lights dimmed as the door shut and they stood silently in the hallway. Not knowing what else to say, Draco nodded at the elf as her overtly large, blue eyes stared at him, raising his eyebrows to stride in the opposite direction.

He turned down one hallway and rounded a corner, his own bedroom door coming into focus as Draco planned to change his shirt before returning downstairs to the King and Queen. Draco was not prepared for the grounding sight that awaited him and hurriedly opened the wooden door, pausing immediately as his mouth gaped open and his grey eyes widened at the very real image of a golden hawk sitting on the ledge of his bedroom window, amber eyes surveying him knowingly.

**.**

The days had passed without incident as Isla steadily grew more anxious about her reasoning for being in London. William was ever gracious and went out of his way to make her stay comfortable and enjoyable as Isla danced around the truth behind her presence at the theater. The great author did not press her for an answer, instead seeming to completely ignore any reason as to why she was there other than to entertain and keep him company.

Isla had quickly realized that William Shakespeare was a very haughty and arrogant man. Despite his constant nerves and penchant for overindulging in alcohol when the pounding of his heart became too much, William was a pleasant fellow who was overtly driven to see the best of his written works come to life.

Even now, on the same day that very far away Draco was preparing for the arrival of the Scottish King, Isla watched with rapt interest, her hands cupping her face as she leaned forward in her seat, as William furiously strode about the stage, pausing the actors as they ducked their heads in shame or tsked in annoyance as he corrected their stances, lines, or posture.

"Theodore! How many times have I told ya?" Isla heard William spout, his dark curls turning as his long strides stopped in front of the actor. "You have to become the character. You must act as if you are Puck and there is no existence of Theodore. You must become Robin Goodfellow; you must show your frivolity as Oberon's jester! You, Theodore, are a central person to the telling of this story and you cannot shrug off your lines or ignore the passion needed for the character of Puck." William nodded briskly to the man as Theodore rolled his eyes, the director turning to jump off the stage as he waved his hands dramatically and motioned to the group of men.

"From the top of the scene."

The actors stepped about, moving to their correct positions as William crossed his arms, glancing over his shoulder to throw Isla a handsome grin, waiting for the scene to take place once more.

Hours later when the sun was near to setting and the light was rapidly extinguishing from the theater set, William dismissed his characters and reprimanded them to be on time the next day.

"Opening night is less than a month away, gentlemen," Shakespeare called to his fleeing actors, their muscles aching as they longed to depart from the stage. "Soon we shall begin the full rehearsals and I do not want to see anyone who does not know their lines. Understood?"

A low grumble of acceptance rolled about the tired men, their various heads and bodies turning to leave without the approval of the man in charge.

"I want to see everyone here at sun up!" William called as the wooden door opened and the actors piled through to leave the theater.

His dark head of curls shook, his shoulders sagging as William turned around to glance at the sections of empty seats before his brown eyes settled on Isla. She was sitting in her usual seat directly facing the stage but her blonde head was bent in concentration as her pink lips moved soundlessly as she spoke to herself. She did not notice that the cast had left nor that William was steadily climbing the wooden planks of stairs and walking down the long aisle towards her until his feet appeared in her steady vision and she jumped, her head jerking up as William grinned.

"Didn't mean ta frighten ya, love."

Her sapphire eyes widened in panicking confusion, a hand raising to dispel his worry when William laughed, the sound a roar as his chocolate eyes danced.

"Why are ya so tense, love? Let me help ya with that."

William bent his leg to step over the bench Isla was sitting on, moving to stand behind her as his hands grabbed her shoulders and began kneading the tight muscles. His thumbs worked over the back of her neck before rubbing small circles into the side curve of her throat.

Isla had let her eyes fall shut under the pressure, her stress slightly relived as William soothed her muscles. A less than subtle groan even escaped her lips when his talented fingers pressed against a large knot, the force pushing the tension from the strain.

When his movements slowed and his fingers brushed lightly across her shoulders to gently pull at the collar of her dress, Isla leaned forward, pulling from his touch as William let his hands fall to his sides.

"I don't think that is appropriate, William," Isla warned, her curls bouncing across her shoulders as she turned her head to glance back at the master poet.

His head bowed, more sarcasm and angry falsity present than actual reverence, as William's lips twitched and he said, "My apologies, love. I was merely tryin' ta ease ya stress."

Isla faced forward again, her gaze staring across the theater as William stepped over the bench, plopping down beside her as his eyes stayed forward.

"I'm sorry, William. I didn't mean to sound rude. I have a lot on my mind right now, that's all," Isla apologized but her soft words were meaningless as William scooted closer, an arm wrapping around her waist to draw their bodies closer.

"Maybe I can help you forget about it for awhile," William whispered, his head bent next to Isla's ear as his warm breath fluttered over her bare neckline.

Before she could turn her head to protest or get up to leave his grasp, William had pressed his lips against Isla's neck, his hand tightening its hold on her hip as his tongue wetly traced the column of her neck. Isla began squirming, her smaller hands attacking his arms to remove his grasp but William was prepared and tucked his face against hers when Isla turned her head towards him to protest, his lips meeting her open mouth in an unexpected kiss.

Suddenly his other hand was holding the back of her blonde head to his face and Isla pressed her hands against his chest as her need for oxygen surfaced. Her whimpers turned up the corners of William's lips as his cock hardened at her struggles, her large breasts pressing against his heaving chest as Isla attempted to get free. Her hands were trapped between their bodies but at the opportune moment, William leaned back with the intention of pressing his fuller weight forward, Isla snaked her fingers up the open collar of his ruffled shirt and dug her nails into the soft skin below his collarbones before ripping them south along his bare chest.

Flayed skin piled under her nails but Isla jumped back off the bench when William howled in pain, his hands jerkily releasing their hold before pressing against the stripes of blood running down his chest. His heated and angry brown eyes flew to Isla as she stared wide-eyed at the work she had down to his skin. Her feet were slowly backing up, her knees bumping the wooden benches as she unconsciously began to flee, when William stood and heavily puffed his anger, his fists clenching as he glared at Isla.

"What in bloody hell was that for?" He demanded, his feet picking up as he stalked towards Isla. "You should be rubbin' ma shoulders after I've housed ya here for the past weeks!"

Isla knew she was an Unspeakables and had many, many months of vicious training to call upon but her hands were tied. William was a Muggle and using magic would dispel her little secret. Even her hawk was useless as long as he was in sight.

That thought in mind, Isla hastily stated, "I'm sorry William, I didn't mean for it to come to this. I told you have I have a suitor and you have still not relented. I must be going now, I need to retrieve something I left in Scotland." If he knew that she was leaving, he was sure to follow. Not out of London, just far enough to thwart her path. But she was faster and knew she could escape his knowing steps and dodge his questions. "I am sure I will see you again in the near future."

William's dark eyebrows had risen and his mouth was opening to reply when Isla turned on her heel and dashed through the remaining rows until she sprinted down a flight of stairs before gripping the weak banister and hoisting herself over the ledge to the theater floor. Now his bearded mouth hung agape in astonishment as William watched Isla run, her blonde curls whipping furiously as she ducked her head to see if he was following.

Their eyes met for a brief second and it was enough to push William into action. He followed her path and sprinted off the raised seating, his white tights tearing on the corner of the wooden stairs as a small stream of blood oozed down his calve.

Isla had pushed open the exiting door, William quickly closing in, and rapidly looked both ways down a dirty alley before ducking to the right, shadows eating her as she ran from the theater. A darker, thinner alley appeared on her left and Isla veered as her quick steps caught on the uneven cobblestone. Her shoulders brushed the sides of the alley and Isla paused halfway down, her hands gripping her knees as she bent to regain her breathing.

With no time to spare and nothing to lose, Isla straightened and turned sideways as her shoulders pushed back and her blue eyes closed in concentration. The now dirty yellow dress collapsed as her body shrunk and morphed. The wide collar fell open as her golden wings surpassed the falling material and Isla wasted no time in beating her wings rapidly, the rushing air propelling her straight up as her avian body cleared the tops of the buildings and gained access to the sight of open skies.

William had hurried to the alley that he had barely seen Isla duck into but he stopped at the dark mouth when he saw no one there. The faint light of the setting sun showed a heap of clothing in the center of the small walkway and William shimmied inside the gap until he bent sideways to retrieve Isla's discarded dress.

His chocolate eyes widened in disbelief. Where was she? How did she just _disappear?_ William looked up and down the alley but he could not fathom how Isla would have escaped, in the nude nonetheless. His gaze turned upwards and caught on a large hawk that was spinning lazy circles high above, its beak opening to caw obscenely before dipping to fly off to the north. William gripped the dress, turning to exit the alley before returning to the theater. _She'll be back, I know she will, _he thought wistfully, the yellow dress thrown over his shoulder as the infamous Shakespeare trotted home.

Isla did not want to risk flying so far at night and decided just after the sun had finally set that she would Apparate to the woods on the outskirts of the Manor before flying in. Although she was wandless she had been trained in the art of magic without the wooden instrument and would still be able to transport herself the same. Dropping through the feathery clouds of the English night sky, Isla spiraled slowly until her talons touched ground and her tawny wings flapped needlessly as she took a few faltering landing steps.

Amber eyes blinked shut before opening as a vivid sapphire. A fierce wind tossed the grass and underbrush around as Isla shivered in her naked state, not for the first time wishing an Animagus transformed **with **their clothes on. She glanced about, taking little notice of her surroundings as her hands stilled and her eyes closed once more to focus on her destination.

The jarring of two very closely timed transportation magics left Isla light headed as her bare feet took purchase on the leafy grass, an even colder breeze wrapping around her as she opened her blue eyes to happily see the flickering lights of the Malfoi Manor. She took a step forward but her stomach heaved and Isla did good to bend at the waist and turn quickly before she vomited into a nearby bush. Her body spasmed twice more, the contents of her stomach regurgitating before her sweating forehead lifted and dazedly looked about.

By that time it was instinctual for Isla as her eyes shut and she grasped for the mental image of her hawk form. Her wings fluttered in the wind and as she took off into the air somewhat wobbly, Isla did not think about the wards guarding the house or the protections set in place to keep outsiders away. The bird gently took to the sky, drawing closer to the Manor with no problems until she dropped to circle the house. Unusual carriages parked out front alerted Isla's to the presence of other guests and she did not immediately fly to the bedroom window that she had flown away from so many days ago.

Her sharp beak opened, a loud caw resounding as Isla used her avian senses to locate Draco's scent and hone in on his current quarters. Picking up the fresh scent of rain and newly bound leather that always accompanied Draco, Isla circled the estate once more before landing softly on the stone ledge of large bedroom. Her umber eyes strayed immediately to the dress where the magic inside her wand called out to her.

This was the right room.

Isla inched her away inside the bars of the window and sat expectantly on the sill, her feathered body resting as she waited for Draco. It was not long before the wooden door opened and Isla's smaller heart pounded rapidly as the blonde wizard walked through the entry, his steps pausing in disbelief when his silver eyes instantly saw the golden hawk. Her wings opened and flapped merrily in greeting as Draco turned to hurriedly shut the door.

His gaze was hesitant, apprehensive as he stared at the bird. "Isla?" He asked, fearful hope trailing off the end of the words. "Is that you?"

The hawk leaped from the ledge and flew across the room to land on a stiffly plush cushion of a fainting couch. In the blink of an eye, which is exactly what Draco did as he missed the transformation, Isla was sitting nude on the sofa, her legs crossed and arms folded suggestively to cover her naughty bits.

"I would hope it was me otherwise you would be talking to a bird."

Somehow a giant sigh of relief escaped the confines of Draco's chest as his shoulders slumped slightly and his grey eyes shut dramatically.

"Geez, don't look so excited to see me," Isla spit, a frown twisting her features as Draco stayed put, his feet rooted to the ground as he met Isla's gaze with a glare.

"An owl a head of time would have been nice but I guess you would have just brought it yourself," Draco replied, his snapping tongue furthering the displeased look on Isla's face as she abruptly stood, current nakedness forgotten as her feisty temper spiked.

"And I guess a, 'hi honey, welcome home,' would be asking too much of you."

Draco did not miss Isla's nudity and his eyes grazed down the curves of her body innocently enough as a smirk pulled up the corner of his lips. The sight of her naked body, wide hips rounding to a tapered waist and barely concealing a tuff of dark blonde hair at the apex of her thighs, lent a falsehood to his words as Draco realized that he very intently wanted to do just the opposite of his words.

"I don't know you! How can I welcome you back when I don't know who you are!"

The words were a grounding slap to the face as Isla physically reeled from his accusation. All this time away from him and she had managed to forget that he had forgotten everything.

_I've been so selfish,_ she thought begrudgingly.

Her bare ass plopped back down on the couch as Isla wondered where she had screwed up their simple plan in the short time that she had been gone. Her blue eyes went out of focus as she pitifully thought about all that she had done to get them here in the first place.

While he could not deny that arguing with a very naked, very attractive witch was turning him on as much as her rebellious and irksome personality was, Draco decided it was in best their both interests if she were dressed. Isla did not notice when he moved around the room to pace behind the couch to retrieve her folded dress off of the drawers. She did startle when he shoved the blue velvet in front of her face, her matching ocean eyes gazing up at Draco as he smirked devilishly, his gaze drifting to her bare breasts as a blush inflamed Isla's cheeks and she grabbed the dress.

His back turned to give her a moments privacy and Draco moved back with her wand in hand as Isla was adjusting the dress to her plentiful curves. Their eyes met, Isla quickly glancing away with an embarrassed blink, before he extended his arm to offer her the piece of magical wood. Isla gripped the knobby end and felt the flow of power run through her and into the wand and back out.

"Thank you for keeping it safe," she admitted as she poked the tip of the wand inside the long sleeve of her left arm and shoved the stick under the material until it was resting along the seam of her forearm.

"You would have done the same for me," Draco responded, his deepening voice jerking Isla's head up as he reached a hand up to her face, sweeping a stray, frizzy curl from her face as Isla inhaled with a startled pull, her heart leaping wildly at Draco's light touch. "How is it that I miss you, and I can't even remember you?"

The question was rhetorical but Isla felt and saw the pain in his words as his grey eyes hungrily searched her face. A gruesome tearing of her heart broke the tight line of her lips and Isla groaned, the sad sound jolting Draco as he instantly seemed worried, steel eyes widening a fraction as he visually examined the witch before him.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Isla babbled. "We wouldn't be here if it weren't for me. I shouldn't have come to your house when I returned to London. I shouldn't have left Thom in that hotel. I should have cleaned up my messes better."

"Shh, shh," Draco comforted her, his long arms wrapping around Isla automatically as he sat her down on the couch and pressed her head into the crook of his neck, a series of movements which he had perfected by the time he was ten and was used to consoling his mother after Lucius had been even remotely cruel. Isla did not sob but fisted the rough material of his short dress coat and closed her eyelashes against his cool skin. Her breathing evened and Draco felt Isla nuzzle her nose against his collarbone affectionately as her short breaths warmed his chest in small puffs.

Moments passed and Draco felt Isla lean her weight against him more as she slowly slipped away into sleep. His blonde head bent back to gaze down at her beautiful, slack face and Draco smiled despite himself as an arm wrapped around her shoulders and the other gently shook her arm.

"Isla, come on. You can't fall asleep _on_ me. Let's get you up into the bed," Draco murmured as Isla blinked her dry eyes and gazed at him with trusting recognition.

He stood, bringing her dead weight with him, and slowly dragged Isla across the room until her knees hit the plush comforter of the bed and she released Draco's grasp and eagerly climbed across the mattress. Draco pulled back the covers as Isla shuffled the pillows and slid underneath the blankets before her curly head fell to a silk pillow with a resounding yawn.

Draco patted the empty space next to her and smiled tightly, his heart lurching as Isla's lips twisted and her nose wrinkled as she pressed her face against the silk material. His weight shifted and Draco moved off the bed, standing with the intentions of leaving the room to rejoin the guests downstairs in the lounge, when Isla lifted a hand to where he was just sitting and opened her bright blue eyes sleepily.

"Draco," she called, pausing his steps as he turned back to lean over the bed towards her prone figure. "I didn't find the necklace."

He chuckled and placed both hands next to her lying body on top of the blankets.

"Its alright, love. We'll talk about it in the morning."

Isla nodded, her eyes still closed but spoke again when Draco shifted his body to exit once more.

"I'm glad you're here with me, Draco," Isla murmured. Sleep seemed to finally capture her as her eyes flickered behind her eyelids and her outstretched hand went slack, lying openly across the empty space.

Nodding to her, and reaffirming his acceptance to himself, Draco stood still for a moment as Isla slowly breathed, an encompassing sleep surrounding her as she lay still. He walked to the door, grabbing the knob and preparing to exit when instead he glanced over his shoulder at the unconscious woman in his bed and laughed regrettably.

Who would he be if he just walked out of the room and left a beautiful witch alone in his room? Not Draco Malfoy that's for sure.

With that arrogant but pushing thought in his head, Draco released the door handle, removed both his coats and snapped his fingers to dispel the light in the room. He kicked off his boots before heavily sitting on the edge of the bed, once more glancing back over his shoulder at the blonde witch sleeping behind him before Draco moved to the head of the bed and slipped his legs under the blankets. Isla adjusted to his presence in her sleep as Draco turned on his side and inched closer to the middle of the bed, his arms reaching out to pull Isla against his chest. She dipped her head to rest comfortably against chest, messy curls tickling Draco's chin as their legs tangled in a pile of limbs.

Somehow sleep overcame Draco quickly as he held the familiar witch in his arms. Her gentle breathing slowed his own and within minutes of laying his head down and his grey eyes closing peacefully, Draco was lightly snoring into the crown of Isla's blonde head. The pair slept better than either had the entire time they had been in the sixteenth century, neither realizing that their need for the other had progressed so deeply that their happiness, and ultimately their magic and powers, was stronger when they were together.

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**A/N:**

**Ta da! **

**Thank you for reading! This was more of a filler chapter than I had originally intended but I hope it was enough to keep you interested and reading. Major shit was going to go down by the end of this chapter but I was craving some Draco/Isla interaction and decided on their reunion instead of some action. So look forward to the next chapter being a bit more exciting. **

**Thanks again for reading! And leave a review, its always nice to know what readers are thinking about the story and how you think it could and should be better. **


	9. Better in Time

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure. **

**As well, all historical personas, settings, and events are as honest and truthful as possible. However, some personalities and actions will be altered to fit the plot line of this story. I do not claim to own any historical significance with these persons and yes, some events might end up more obviously altered than others. All actions will be stated as such.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Nine – Better in Time  
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The early morning sun was creeping through the stone window when Draco peeled open his grey eyes and blinked lazily at his immediate surroundings. He was facing the door of the bedroom, the light falling over his turned back as his long legs stretched within the confines of the silk sheets before lightly knocking a warm body behind him. His brain had not processed the events of yesterday and Draco tossed his messy blonde head back to peer over his shoulder at the remainder of his large bed, early irritation drawing over his handsome face as his vision cleared and the crumpled form of a female took shape.

_Isla. _

Her curvy body was wrapped in the blankets, her blonde curls poking through atop a pillow as her back was to Draco. She twitched in her sleep, kicking a leg out before her torso half turned, her face completely turning to fall across the pillow in the opposite direction of her body.

Thinking it would be less awkward if she woke up by herself in the bed, Draco quickly gripped the edge of the blankets to lift them slowly as his body slipped sideways off the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold stone lightly. He replaced the bedding and bent to retrieve his boots, moving across the room to sit heavily on a sofa facing the bed. Draco shoved his feet into the shoes before his knees parted, his elbows jabbed into his thighs and Draco dropped his head into his large hands with a sigh.

A thick yawn escaped his lips as Draco glanced up at the pile of bedding that contained Isla.

His heart pumped at the knowledge that she was here now. But his nerves were sent racing at the actual sight that she was here.

Every starry night the bright moon had seen Draco pacing in his room, heavy contemplation creasing his brow as he fought to remember and struggled to piece together what his life had become. Each night he gave up in frustration as the whisps of memories dodged his capture and his mind remained irritatingly clear. Most nights he hoped and prayed that Isla would return to get him out of this mess; to do all the dirty work so that he would not have to be bothered while in such a fragile state.

The days had been long but now, the vision of the sexy, blonde witch lying in his bed, and the very real image of her naked from last night still in his mind's eye, brought the very clear realization that he could no longer worry and anticipate what would happen when she returned. Her arrival was forced upon him and Draco was none too thrilled to admit that he was anxious for the unfolding of the upcoming events. The tingling of agitated nerves crept across his shoulders and Draco twisted his head from side to side to rid the anxiety as a shiver rolled up his spine.

Draco was startled by the pop of Apparation and jerked his blonde head to glance at the still sleeping Isla before glaring at the appearance of SeaSea. The elf was dressed in a simpler navy dress, a white apron tied around her bony waist as her blue eyes narrowed at the wizard.

"Mistress knows oh tha arrival oh tha Misses," SeaSea whispered, her knobby fingers twisting behind her back as she leaned closer to Draco from her stance at the end of the couch. "Mistress saad tha' breakfaast weel ba reahdy wen ya err awake. King James weel ba leavin' shortly as weel."

"Thank you, SeaSea," Draco whispered back quickly, his blonde head nodding as the elf bowed in return before Apparating out of the room.

A second large sigh fell from his lips and Draco stood to pace slowly to the window, his arms crossing over his broad chest as his silver eyes peered over the fog covered landscape. His eyes shut tiredly and Draco swayed on the spot until a husky voice drew his attention elsewhere.

"Ya know, you could always come back to bed," Isla said, her curly head poking up from the piling of blankets to grin mischievously at Draco.

He turned in shock, reality forcing him back to the anxious nerves crawling through his body.

"We should talk," Draco stated hesitantly, his normally long gait shortened as he stepped slowly to stand beside the bed to face Isla.

"Uh oh," she remarked, the grin still in place as Isla's blue eyes crinkled. "Sounds like I'm in trouble."

Draco couldn't help the smirk that pulled up one side of his lips as Isla leaned her arms forward to lift herself up to a half sitting position.

"I think we should set some rules." Isla's honey eyebrows rose and Draco amended, "Guidelines if you will."

"Are you afraid that I'm going to take advantage of you?" Isla questioned innocently, her lips straining into a straight line as Draco's eyes widened a fraction and his own eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"No," Draco admitted. "I don't want to take advantage of you."

Isla hmph'ed, her jaw ticking as her teeth clenched and her scrutinizing gaze peered at Draco. This was a new side of him and she was not sure if it was showing through because of his amnesia or because of their time apart during this epically panic inducing time skip.

"Playing the gentleman now, are we?" Isla teased, her eyes growing serious as Draco flinched before forcing a mask of calm over his face.

"I would assume that I am always the gentleman, love," he responded. "What I meant to say was that we need to set our story straight. Get our facts together before we trapeze downstairs and Kaelina asks us unlimited questions about ourselves and our relationship and every other unimportant detail of our lives."

Isla had to agree with him but she knew that if he was reverting back to his old ways he would take her concurrence as a victory and ramble on about whatever he had already planned for them to say.

"What have you told them while I was gone?" She asked instead, blue eyes calculating as Draco stared at a spot just below her hairline so he wouldn't have to meet her gaze.

"I have told them what you told me - that somehow we got sent back in time and that I have a loss of memory."

"That's all?"

Draco shrugged, his hands stuffing into his pockets as his lips turned down in a 'it's not big deal' gesture.

"What else would I say? I know what century I am from but I can't remember a quarter of my life so far. Kaelina is skeptical about our... circumstances but I'm sure she will listen to your side of the tale."

Isla scoffed, her hips pushing backwards against the pillows as she pulled herself up to get out of the bed, her back to Draco as she walked around the frame to stand before him.

"This is both our story. Don't put all the blame on me when it was your idea to travel to this bloody house in the first place."

Draco calmly moved his feet to straighten his stance, that eerie mask of cold nonchalance blanketing his features before he spoke, his rich voice flat and emotionless.

"Anything you wish to tell Kaelina and Arcturas, I will take your words as my own. This is too precarious of a situation for you to deceive me. We are in this together as you said. However, I can assure you that once we are returned to the present future, our relationship will be reevaluated. I cannot assume that our complications have been healthy for either one of us. Your faith in me is remarkable but I can assure you that I am a flawed man with many regrets."

Isla was stunned into silence, her tongue heavy in her dry mouth as her eyes widened and squinted several times as his calculated words reverberated in her head. What was she to say to that? Anything she thought he would respond with was incomparable to the honest words he had spoken.

When she still did not say anything after several long moments, Draco tilted his head slightly in an inclination of a nod before taking a wide berth around Isla to walk to the other side of the room to the armoire. When the doors opened and he pressed a hand forward to retrieve a fresh set of clothes, Draco noticed the fulfillment of the empty space with various dresses and nightgowns.

_So much for assuming that Kaelina would want us in separate rooms, _Draco thought with an ironic sense of angry sarcasm.

His hands shoved past the frilly and plain female garments to remove a pair of black trousers and a new white shirt. Not caring if Isla had turned to watch him or not, a rushing tingle of excitement thinking about the strain of her eyes on his naked backside seeming to ignore his desire to put distance between themselves, Draco pulled his dirty shirt over his head before pressing his thumbs against his slim hips between the fabric of his pants and pulling them off as well. Glancing to the mirror atop the dresser to his left, Draco saw that Isla was still standing with her back to him and the slight hardness in his cock dissipated as he jerked the new shirt open and shoved his heading through the opening to let the material fall airily against his lean torso. The trousers were of a thicker wool that was itchingly bearable as Draco adjusted his clothing before turning back to Isla.

Not wanting to speak but needing to garner her attention, Draco cleared his throat politely and Isla rushed her shoulders around to peer at his stoic face with hopefulness before her sapphire eyes drooped sadly at the recognition of the businesslike mask erasing his emotions.

"What about this necklace? What were you able to find out while you were in London?"

Isla rotated her torso back so that she was no longer looking at Draco, an anxious tense straining her muscles as the time finally came to admit her laziness and frivolity. Even still, she did not feel like supporting herself and Isla shortly turned to sit on the edge of the bed as her head bent forward and her blonde curls fell forward to curtain her face.

"I didn't find it if that's what you're asking," Isla blankly stated, her words a whisper as her lungs inhaled deeply to give her a calming effect that did not seem to work, exhaling slowly in a way that was not the least bit soothing. "Elizabeth I has it in her possession right now. Somewhere inside the royal palace I'm sure."

"Yes, both of those you have said before," Draco curtly responded, his words clipped as agitation leaked into his voice. "What are we going to do to get it into _our _possession?"

Isla lifted her head and her blue eyes traveled between Draco's silver orbs as her lips parted to hesitantly speak and her honey eyebrows furrowed at his ability to act as if his words just moments ago had not shattered the bubble of happiness she had been living in.

"We'll have to return to London. Together," she admitted, earning a dubious stare from Draco as if that should be obvious.

"And then what, Miss Adventurer?"

"I don't know, Draco," Isla practically screamed, exasperation coating her tone as she shrugged her shoulders largely and attempted to reign in her temper that was itching to let loose. She glanced away from him and let her gaze fall to the fraying trim of the circular floor rug as desperation weighed heavy on her shoulders. Calmly she continued, "I can speak to my sources about what they know concerning the palace but we will have to fly by the seat of our pants until then."

"We'll what? Fly by our pants?" Draco questioned, shock and confusion breaking through the impenetrable mask of cold as he blinked at her terminology.

"It's a Muggle phrase," Isla replied distractedly, her thoughts straying to her abrupt departure of London as she missed the fleeting look of disdain at the non-magical word pass over Draco's face. "We'll have to wing it, make it up as we go."

"Right," Draco conceded. "And how are we getting there?"

"We can Side-along Apparate. I know where we can arrive to that will be inconspicuous."

"You already had this planned out," Draco accused, his sharp tone drawing Isla's startled gaze as she glanced at him with puzzled hesitancy, as if to say, _are you really going to complain?_ "You just flew back to retrieve your little string puppet so you could drag me off and parade me around London."

His misplaced indignance somehow amused Isla and she fought back an arrogant sneer as the man-boy before her practically begged for a reply to his angry tirade.

"Do you want to leave the 1500's or not?" Isla justified, her level stare catching Draco off guard.

"Don't be ridiculous," he admonished after a long pause. "Of course I do. Just tell me what we have to do and let's get out of this century."

Isla was interrupted from speaking as her stomach bubbled up and growled loudly. Her arms crossed immediately over her middle to muffle the sound but the noise echoed in the silent room.

"Shall we go downstairs for breakfast first?" Draco asked instead of wondering aloud that maybe this was just a terribly realistic nightmare that they would wake up from soon. "You should change your dress though before we do," he added pointedly as his silver gaze wandered down the wrinkled mess that Isla was still wearing.

Pulling back her shoulders, standing as she puffed her chest forward in heated defiance, Isla retrieved her wand from the bedside table to wave it impatiently. An instantaneous _Scourgify _later, her royal blue dress looked as good as new and Isla cocked an eyebrow to nail in her acceptance of his challenge.

If he could be distant and aloof but still demanding, then she could too. Two could play that game and Isla nodded slightly to dispel any rebuttal from Draco at her actions.

"I'm fine as I am." She paced to the bedroom door, her blonde curls swaying as she paused to wait for Draco at the exit. "Are you coming or not," Isla asked, the lack of question leaving him no space to falter as his feet picked up and he stepped across the room to wait behind her as she gripped and turned the handle as they almost fell over each other to leave the bedroom.

Draco saw her tense and slightly pause when they reached the top of the stone staircase. Loud conversation could be heard coming from the open dining room door and he recognized the deep voice of King James retelling a royal's tale as they breezed through the entryway and stopped in the doorway. No one had noticed them standing there yet and Draco hurriedly reached back to grab Isla's hand, jerking her forward as their hands clasped together. His long fingers tightened their hold on Isla's when he took a step forward into the dining room and she stood still, nerves gripping her as she realized she was about to walk into the lion's den. Isla stumbled a step and her heaving exhale echoed during a slight lull in the table's conversation and the men and women finally looked back to see who had entered.

It was only an instant before the small sound of scrambling feet could be heard as Dylon shimmied off his chair before running excitedly to Draco. Isla gazed back and forth between the two as Dylon abruptly halted in front of them, his green eyes never leaving Draco until he saw their joined hands and looked up to Isla with a slight frown.

"'ho er ya?" The three year old asked bluntly.

The talk at the table ceased as Isla realized she had the full attention of everyone in the room. Her sapphire eyes widened in panic and Draco gazed down at her trembling hand in his own as he blinked surreptitiously. His throat opened to speak for her and save her from her needless nerves but his lips stayed tight as Isla inhaled deeply before smiling warmly, a bit too falsely for everyone but Dylon to notice.

"I'm Isla. Who are you?"

Again Dylon looked to their clasped hands with mild disgust. His strawberry blonde head tilted back as he stared at Draco and slightly pouted, as if he were looking to the blonde wizard for confirmation that she was trustworthy despite their obvious display of 'affection.'

Draco nodded reassuringly and forced his lips to turn up in a tight smile before he said, "This is Dylon, Kaelina and Arcturas' son."

Isla released Draco's hand and bent her knees until she was almost eye level with Dylon, her blonde curls bouncing as she grinned encouragingly at the young boy.

"It is an honor to meet you, Dylon," Isla said with a flourish, her dark eyelashes resting against her rosy cheeks as her head tipped forward in a bow.

The normally very talkative three year old remained silent as he scrutinized the strange woman before him. When minutes passed and he did not speak, Isla dropped her smile into a curious frown as Dylon inched forward to stand directly in front of Draco, tugging on the bottom of his shirt before the tall wizard rolled his grey eyes and picked the boy up under his thin arms. Dylon wrapped his short legs around Draco's torso and his small hands fisted in the front of his shirt as Dylon situated himself against Draco and glanced over their shoulders at Isla.

The boy was almost too big to be held as such but Isla was most baffled at Draco's acceptance of the child. They had spoken of having children one day and having a family, in the past years they had been together, but Draco had never actually seemed too keen on the idea of infants and adolescents running underfoot. _There's more to this man than I could have ever imagined, _she thought and straightened her legs to stand as movement at the dining table caught her attention and Isla noticed the pairs of adults standing.

The dark haired man in a sumptuous double breasted jacket peered at her mysteriously before Isla remembered herself and quickly paced to stand before the King.

"Your Highness, it truly is an honor to meet you," she gushed, blonde head bowing and knees bending to curtsey before Isla glanced at Kaelina and then Arcturas with a gentle nod.

"Oh lassey, et es I that es honored!" James remarked jovially, a bright smile overturning his features as his dark beard twitched with his facial movements. "D'aco said ya wern't goin' b' here fa weeks! Aye'm glad wee goot ta meet ya!"

Isla blushed as Draco carrying Dylon moved into her peripheral vision, his silver eyes watching her with interest as she interacted with the Scottish royalty. James pushed back his chair once more and motioned for Isla to sit down, the three other adults at the table following his lead and taking their seats as Isla graciously pulled out the chair beside the young Queen Anne.

"So tell us, whart brangs ya here ta Scot'land?" James began, his eager eyes racing between Isla's blue orbs as she waited on the bated breath for her opportunity to speak. "D'aco keept mum ern tha soobject least nigh'."

Isla quickly turned her head to glance at Draco with surprise behind her eyes, his seat to her left allowing her to hide the shock on her face before she answered as her blonde head back to face the King, a mask of delight covering her uneasiness.

"Well, I don't - It's a funny story -" Isla stumbled through her words, her tongue heavy as her brain worked to create a lie to hide the magical reasoning behind their appearance in the sixteenth century. "I was in London to pick up a piece of jewelry and ... when it - uh - wasn't ready, I - um -"

"She just couldn't stay away from me," Draco interjected, saving Isla from an embarrassing, stuttering lie as James' dark head turned slightly to peer at him as he glanced back and forth to Isla.

"Ahhh," James stated with a knowing grin. "Young love."

Draco placed his free hand on Isla's forearm in what he knew was a reassuring gesture and James smiled wider as his chocolate eyes stayed glued to the blonde wizard. Conversation resumed as if the pair of blonde lovers had been sitting at the table since the beginning and Isla leaned back in her chair as the topic of interest steered away from her.

Once everyone had their fill of breakfast foods, the table was cleared and each person rose from their seat as James dejectedly announced to Anne that they should leave soon. Their departure contained less fanfare than their arrival and Isla watched with amusement from the stone steps of the Manor, slightly shivering in the near cold, as the royal carriage passed the magical wards and soon disappeared from sight into the shadowy tree line of the nearby forest. She was not expecting it and nervously gulped when Kaelina turned around and glared at Isla, her husband throwing her an apologetic frown as he followed her inside.

"What was that about?" She curiously asked Draco as he passed her but the blonde wizard merely tilted his head further back, his nose raised impossibly high, and continued walking through the front doors with Dylon attached to his side. She trailed after the pair dejectedly and scrambled to catch up as Draco's long strides eclipsed her hurrying pace. "Draco!" She called but he did not acknowledge her plea for attention as he carried Dylon, walking down a large stone hallway as Isla's cry echoed in the spacious walkway.

Another week passed.

Isla was forced into solitary entertainment as Draco ignored her presence except when in public settings and even then, he did little more than hold her hand or act the gentleman as he escorted her from their room to meals and back. She knew this was his brutal punishment for her lack of presence during his first days trapped in the Scottish Manor without his memories or a true reasoning to how he got there. Isla accepted his actions but it did not make it any easier when she awoke each morning to blink lazily at the empty side of the bed where she knew Draco should be lying. The same routine followed when it was nighttime and Isla waited with open arms for Draco to arrive in their bedroom each night before she fell asleep. Each night he was MIA until moments after sleep had captured her consciousness and then Draco would stealthily slip into the room to disrobe before quietly getting into bed, his broad back always turned to Isla as the beautiful blonde slept.

Some nights though when he was restless and slumber did not come easy, Draco would turn to his other side and watch Isla sleep. Her chest rising and falling made him envious of her dreams and Draco would peer across the shadowed blankets as Isla twitched and groaned, a nightmare or realistic fantasy forcing a strange noise from her parted lips. On a particularly bad night, a handful of days after she had returned to him, Isla had woken Draco from his short sleep with moans of terror, her tan legs kicking the waves of sheets around as she struggled with an imagined foe. Tired impatience won over and Draco stretched his long arms out to grab Isla and pull her to his hard chest as her sobs quieted immediately.

As well, Kaelina seemed to go out of her way to exclude Isla. Her responses were frosty and her attitude distant whenever Isla implored if she could join the Lady for tea or when she asked a question concerning anything. She realized that even as a guest, her hosts were not being friendly to her and Isla decided to spend a majority of her time outside, lost in the woods while still avoiding Draco and Dylon as they happily explored the area, her avian Animagus becoming a quiet respite when all else seemed to turn against her. Although she knew she could not blame them for unfairly judging her actions, Isla understood that the Malfoy family took care of it's own, even centuries apart.

Upon Isla's arrival many days ago, Draco had come to grow furious at her short sense of reality. He as well wanted to return to their own time but Draco was livid that she would return out of the blue and expect them to travel to London to correct her mistake and retrieve the pendant of Ophelia. While he was selfish and arrogant, Draco could not grasp how Isla expected the entire Manor to fall to her feet to accommodate their unusual situation and remedy the errors. If anyone could, it was a Malfoy but Draco, and Kaelina as well, did not take kindly to being taken advantage of by someone who by anyone else's standards would be a complete stranger. So, he avoided Isla except when publicly polite.

It was the middle of a cloudy and surprisingly rainless day when Draco was wandering through the quiet forests, aimlessly walking, and he stumbled upon the golden heap of fabric that was the dress that Isla had been wearing that morning. His feet rushed to the spot and he bent to pick up the garment, silky material sliding through his long fingers as Draco's grey eyes widened a fraction in panic and he glanced around the shaded trees for any sign of the blonde witch. His heart seized as his vision swept across the nearby woods and Draco was opening his mouth to shout her name apprehensively when the rustling of leaves and branches caught his attention as her familiar golden hawk flew to rest on top of a boulder directly in front of him.

Despite knowing that the woman he was looking for was now peering at him intently through sharp hazel eyes, Draco felt unnerved under the bird's gaze and shuffled his feet as he looked away. The gown still hung loosely in his hand and Draco tightened his grasp on the material as Isla spread her wings wide and tilted her beak back to _caw_ perceptively. Wind rushing with the slow beating of her wings, Isla jumped off the large rock and was transformed back into a naked woman before her bare feet hit the moist soil.

"You weren't going to put that on were you?" Isla jested, a small attempt to cover their awkward meeting as she crossed her arms over her naked breasts and smirked hesitantly at Draco. "Because I do not think that is your shade of yellow."

"What are you doing out here?" Draco questioned harshly, his tone of voice sharper than he intended as Isla dropped her forced smile and frowned at the blonde wizard who had only recently reveled in her attentions.

Shivering slightly in the drafty breeze of the inclement weather change, Isla stepped backwards and lowered her hips until she was perched atop the boulder, sighing heavily as she dropped her gaze and Draco cocked his head to the side curiously.

"The same thing you are," she responded morosely. "Avoiding me."

Draco did not deny her words. His actions of late had been enough of an indicator to let Isla know that he was not searching for her affections despite her blatant desire for him to comfort and reassure her that everything would be alright. It was time consuming though to purposefully ignore the person who you shared a bedroom with and Draco let his broad shoulders fall absently as his arm extended across the short space to lift the gown within Isla's reach. The air was tense as she took the garment and opened the skirt to pull it over her blonde head. Draco did not say a word but turned his head of long blonde hair covertly as she dressed silently.

"I'm going back to London," Isla stated when Draco continued to ignore her gaze, her legs moving to stand as she set her face into a determined stare. His head turned and he gaped at her as his silver eyes narrowed angrily.

"No you're not."

Cocking a honey eyebrow, Isla tightened her lips before confirming briskly, "Yes. I am."

"Then I'm going with you."

That was close to the last response she had expected from the normally ornery wizard who refused any decisions besides his own.

"Fine," Isla stated with barely concealed distrust. "But I'm leaving today. Right now actually."

If she thought throwing the plans on him last minute would deter his desire to go with her, she was wrong.

"Fine," Draco responded flatly.

"That's it?" She asked with hesitation. "You're not going to argue about it?"

Knowing the effect his proximity would have on her after their strained distance, Draco stepped closer until he was toe to toe with Isla. His shaggy blonde hair fell forward as he dipped his head, hands clasped behind his back professionally, and tilted it to the side as his warm breath floated across Isla's neck.

"That's it," he whispered, the tones of his voice sending a tremor through the witch as she fought to keep her eyes open and focused ahead.

Isla worked to form a coherent sentence as Draco straightened his stance and smirked haughtily. His chest too was begging to heave with deep breaths but Draco kept himself in line as his fidgeting hands itched to pull the woman against his chest roughly and snog her senseless. He stepped backwards but quickly moved to stand next to Isla as his hands jerked from behind his back and he grabbed her left hand as her blonde head turned to him in surprise. The heat from his long fingers and large palm created an electrical current within Isla as her fingers automatically flexed and wrapped around Draco's. Her right hand reached within the folds of her dress to knowingly pull her wand from the bodice and Isla gripped it as if her life depended on it as Draco watched with amusement.

She held it in the open air in front of them and gently twirled her wrist to Apparate them but paused, the wooden stick pointing forward as Isla turned her head to glance at Draco, an errant thought stopping her spell.

"Shouldn't we tell someone that we are leaving?" Isla questioned, trepidation rising in her voice as the thought of their hosts searching for them caused a guilty ball to pit in her stomach. "Kaelina maybe?"

"I have already spoken to Arcturas," Draco informed her without moving his head to meet her blue eyed gaze. "He is aware that our departure would be swift and untimely. They will not worry about us."

Her lips tightened, twitching to the side as Isla quelled the storm of nerves that urged her to smack the handsome blonde wizard across the face to remove his self-satisfied grin of triumph.

"Fine," she said tersely. "Then there is no need to dawdle."

Draco opened his lips to remark that he was not the one holding up their progress, a blonde eyebrow cocked and his flaxen locks swaying as he turned his head to spare Isla a glance, but she rapidly flourished her wand once more and waved it appropriately as Draco felt his stomach pulled inwards and his body compacted as the Apparation removed any physical trace of their presence in the forest.

It was raining so hard in London that when the pair landed roughly in the tight alleyway where Isla had too recently disappeared from, they stumbled against the stone walls and were drenched immediately.

"Bloody hell!" Draco cried as he narrowed his mercury eyes and peered both ways down the alley. "Couldn't you have picked a better time to leave Scotland!"

There was no question to his statement and Isla pushed past the Slytherin prince angrily as he closely followed her to the mouth of the exit.

"Sure! Because I can predict the weather now too!" She had to yell to be heard over the torrential downpour but she knew Draco had heard her when his strong grip encircled her wrist and jerked her backwards before she could take a step out of the alley.

The uneven seams of the stone wall pressed uncomfortably into her back when Draco placed both hands roughly on her wet shoulders, his larger frame taking up the remaining space in the narrow walkway as he once more leaned his dripping blonde head closely to Isla's face. Anger rolled off his body in waves as fat drops of rain water fell to the cobblestones beneath their feet.

"We're in this together," Draco repeated, grey eyes locking on Isla's blues. "Don't try to run off on me again."

His grip suddenly released as he stood back as far as he could and Isla understood that he was showing more anger than he actually felt. For a brief second she saw a glimpse of the fear behind his silver eyes that Draco was hiding so well and her shoulders sagged slightly under the knowledge and relief that she was not the only one worrying about what was going to happen to them.

"Let's go," he murmured, the words almost lost under the torrent of noises from the storm but Isla nodded once at the moving of his lips and slipped past Draco to stand at the mouth of the alley, blonde curls plastered to her forehead as she glanced back to Draco to silently tell him to hurry up.

The raindrops seemed to pelt against their soaked bodies harder as their rushed feet hurried over the slick cobblestones. Draco was almost blindly following Isla, his grey eyes on the ground to watch the movement and direction of her feet rather than attempt to visualize her back as she ran in front of him.

Thankfully she quickly led them to a large overhanging that shadowed the immense building it surrounded and they were able to bend at their waists to gain air into their lungs as the storm continued to unload on London. A quiet drying spell warmed both their shivering bodies before Isla hid her wand and turned to face the wooden door of the stone building.

"Where exactly are we?" Draco wondered aloud and Isla spared a glance at him over her shoulder as her small hand fisted and raised to knock on the door.

"We're looking for help. Someone who will be able to get us into the palace."

When her short knock did not return a response from the interior, Isla grasped the metal handle and lightly turned it until she was able to gently push open the door an inch. Her slim fingers slipped between the darkened crack and she did not turn back to make sure that Draco affirmed her order when she stated authoritatively, "Stay here."

Draco frowned in response but did as he was told. However, listening to Isla's orders did not entail complete compliance. Droplets of water still running past his collar and down his neck, Draco inched forward until his lean body was pressed against the wooden door frame, his shaggy blonde head tilted sideways as he listened intently to any noises coming from the crack of the door. His breathing slowed and Draco held his breath for a moment when the sound was louder than anything he could hear from inside the building. Frustration propelling him forward, Draco placed a hand against the door and gently pushed until the opening was wide enough for his head to peek through the crack between the door and the wooden frame. Darkness shrouded his immediate vision and Draco blinked several times rapidly to adjust to the inky blackness but his silver eyes still could not make out any shapes or outlines.

Ignoring the nagging conscience that told him to stay put, Draco turned sideways to slip past the slightly open door. A dim light crept under the rectangular frame of another door on the opposite side of the room and Draco strode confidently across the dark space until he approached the second door and pushed the tips of his fingers into the barely ajar crack to peel it open.

"Isla! Love!" He heard a man shout across the open theater that he shortly stepped in to. "I knew you would come back to me!"

Draco swiveled his head and soon saw Isla walking towards a dark haired man that he instantly recognized.

"Bloody wanker," Draco muttered under his breath, jealousy rising it's ugly head as his blonde witch rather eagerly embraced William Shakespeare. He pushed himself back into the dark corner that was created by two merging walls, hoping to silently observe their conversation as he pressed a hand to the door he had just emerged from to push it back into it's frame, the slight click of the handle falling into place causing Isla to peer over her shoulder expectantly.

Draco assumed that she would be angry to see him there, so clearly disobeying her, but he was surprised and agitated when instead Isla flashed a mask of relief before frowning with a slight of fear that quickly disappeared as she turned back to William. The playwright had not removed his greedy hands from Isla's upper arms and his knowing grin spread wider as his brown eyes openly gazed up and down her body. Still leaning against the wall behind him, Draco crept sideways as he attempted to get closer to the pair without being noticed.

"I have the most wonderful news!" William excitedly gushed, his roaming hands sliding down Isla's arms to link their hands together.

"_A Midsummer Night's Dream_ opened to a full house?" She guessed, rather off track as she knew the play did not begin formal productions for several days yet.

"Better!" William exclaimed, unabashed joy seeping from his very pores. "The Queen has personally asked me to pen a play for her New Year's gala! She wants me to present it that evening as entertainment for the event! Isn't that spectacular?"

The gears moved in accordance in both Isla and Draco's minds and their mouths popped open in identical motions as their blonde eyebrows rose in the same instant. Whether she realized he was there watching them or not, Isla telepathed to Draco her excitement that he did not have to open his mind to before a rolling wave of ecstatic emotion combined with his magic.

"Oh William, that's fantastic!" Isla conceded, her thin arms sliding around his torso instinctively as she pulled him in for a brief but tight hug. She met his even gaze with barely contained enthusiasm at their turn of luck.

William warmly returned her gaze but his mocha eyes glanced over Isla's shoulder quickly and a small frown turned down his lips and crinkled his chocolate orbs, his hands dropping Isla's as he took two short steps to stand beside her but just slightly in front as if to protect her.

"Sir," he called disdainfully. "You cannot be here. The theater is closed. Shows start next week."

Knowing who she would see, Isla rotated her blonde head and then turned the rest of her body as a forced frown hardened her facial features and she sighed impatiently.

"I told you to stay outside," Isla warned but a tinge of elation at their new found opportunity softened her words as Draco removed himself from the dark shadows and strode towards them, confidence lengthening his stride until envy twisted his features and Isla blanked at his obvious disapproval of her London contact.

"And I told you before we left that I was coming with you."

William cocked his head, interested in their banter, and glanced from Isla to Draco and back.

"Do you know this man?" He asked, fearful that when Isla said yes his darkest fears of her suitor being real would come true before his very eyes.

"Yes," Isla said with a heavy, exhaling sigh, her sapphire eyes closing thickly before she said the words William had been anticipating to not hear. "This is my paramour - Draco."

The two men exchanged meaningful stares as they battled to see who would look away first, Draco gazing down his aristocratic nose as William searched the strange man's grey eyes for any indication that Isla was mistaken about his identity.

His full lips peeled apart and Draco wasted no time in publicly staking a claim to the beautiful blonde witch as a long arm snaked around her waist to pull her against his hip and his equally blonde head tilted to press a convincingly loving kiss to Isla's temple, his silver eyes never leaving William's irate gaze as a sneer found it's place on Draco's face.

"Charmed," he said flatly and William knew the blonde man was anything but as their awkward introduction passed. His dark curls bounced as he looked to Isla and purposefully sought to ignore the presence of the man securely attached to her side.

"What brings you back to London, love? Surely my handsome looks were more than enough to incentivize your return."

Draco tensed next to Isla, ready to strike out, and she shifted her weight to press herself further against his frame naturally, an unnecessary reassurance that they were still in this together, a seemingly pleasant smile turning up the corners of her lips and baring her white teeth.

"You are mistaken, kind sir," Isla jested uneasily. "It is your plays that have drawn us to London."

"Well I would not want to disappoint a beautiful lady," William countered, his spirit rising as he happily taunted Draco with flirtations directed at Isla. An idea ignited a light bulb in his head and William mischievously glanced to Draco as he spoke to Isla. "And your timing could not have been better. One of my actors fell sick this morning and I need to find a replacement before the first curtain call in five days. Your beau would be perfect for the part."

Grey eyes narrowed disdainfully as Isla sucked in an attempted humorless breath, her lips sealing shut as she worked to hide the enormous laughter that was threatening to break free and send Draco into a temper tantrum.

"Me?" He questioned, displeasure evident by his disgusted tone of voice. "You want me to get up on stage and run around in tights while a gaggle of men stare at my perfectly shaped arse?"

Isla elbowed him in the stomach but Draco simply squeezed his fingers tighter around the curve of her hip to silently indicate his disapproval.

"Yes," William responded, all traces of plotting evil erased from his face except for the taunting mirth that shone behind his brown eyes. "You look about the same measurements as Nathanial." His gaze openly traveled across Draco's lean frame, assessing his statement before nodding vigorously. "Yes, you will do."

Isla could feel the heat coming off of Draco as his temper threatened to explode on the infamous William Shakespeare. His mouth held open defiantly as Draco readied to remark that there was no bloody way in hell that he was going to put on any tights when Isla hurriedly smiled and accepted the offer for him.

"He would be honored," she glanced pointedly at Draco, daring him to contradict her words, "to have a role in any one of your plays."

"Well then," William said, a look of pure enjoyment washing over his dark features as he evenly met Draco's hatred filled gaze. "We should start fitting your costumes. Lord knows we cannot afford to push back opening night because our lead actor cannot wear his outfits."

"Lead?" Draco gaped, his grey eyes wide as William nodded with an evil smirk gracing his features. "Oh bloody hell," he uttered and the realization finally hit the Malfoy heir that he would have to do his fair share of demeaning tasks in order for them to retrieve the damned necklace that had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

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**A/N:**

**Thank you for reading! I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter and as always, would appreciate some reviews. **

**If you haven't already, look for me on facebook. I have an entire profile dedicated to this penname and am constantly updating with news for the next chapters as well as adding character pictures to visually guide you along with this story. Search for **_**Samantha LuckyThirteen Jane**_**, of course I am the one with the profile picture of Draco. Add me and you will be pleasantly surprised at the plethora of goodies I will have ready for you. **

**Oh yea, did I mention that you should review? :) **


	10. Bittersweet Relief

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure. **

**All quotes from "A Midsummer Night's Dream" are property of the real William Shakespeare and are quoted from and were found at .. **

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**Chapter Ten – Bittersweet Relief **

"Draco!" Isla warned. "Do not fuck this up! This could be our only chance to get far enough into the palace to retrieve the necklace."

"What ever do you mean?" Draco replied sarcastically, his blonde head bent frustratedly as he worked to steady himself while poking his thin legs into a pair of emerald tights. It was the next day and they were closely standing in a small dressing room behind the stage, Draco dressing in costume to become Lord Oberon and Isla was supposed to be thumbing through the script and marking his lines but instead she was glaring at the blonde wizard as he struggled to push his legs through the gauzy material that would then encase his muscular appendages. Although they had both realized that William had been slightly over exaggerating when he gave Draco the 'lead', Isla had been and still was adamant that he take this part seriously.

"If you do well in this play we will be able to go with William to the Queen's ball in two months."

"But I thought that you and Sir Shakespeare were just the best of friends?" Draco implored, his deep voice mocking her demanding attitude.

Isla blanked her expression and the deadpan look was enough to stall any words from further leaving Draco's mouth on the subject.

"You're leaving this up to me then?" He queried, the waistband of the tights snapping around his lean waist as his hands fidgeted with the silken fineries of his blouse. "It's my responsibility now to get us to the palace?" His honey eyebrows rose and his blonde beard and mustache twitched in a falsely eager gesture.

Isla scoffed and let her arms drop as the papers of the script brushed the stone wall and her left shoulder bumped the uneven surface.

"I could get us there but I do not think you would - approve of my methods. Besides, this opportunity practically fell into our laps. We shouldn't ignore it."

Costume fitting snugly, Draco took two broad steps across the short space to stand toe to toe with Isla, their closely matching heights mingling their breaths as she stiffened at his presence. He leaned forward just slightly until their noses were almost touching and Isla was trying very hard not to appear cross eyed as she held Draco's grey stare.

"What exactly _were your_ plans to get into the palace if William had not so graciously offered the part?"

His words were barely above a whisper and Isla fought to keep her blue eyes open as a tremor ran up the nerves of her body, his intent gaze watching the widening and narrowing of her eyes and the twitching of her eyebrows.

"That is not the issue right now," she responded, her sentence earning a low growl from Draco as his upper lip pulled up on one side and his long arms reached up to press against the wall behind Isla, caging her against his chest as they pressed backwards.

"You were going to whore yourself out to get to the Queen, weren't you? Work your way through the court until you found a man who could get you close enough." When Isla did not say anything but widened her gaze in growing fear, Draco smacked one hand against the rough stones. "Weren't you!"

Isla was frozen, Draco's heaving chest now convulsing against her shocked form as he moved closer still and she could do little else than shake her curly head in a circle and sputter, "I - I wasn't - not like that - I was going to -" before he used his strength to crush her fully against the stone wall, her feet faltering as he held her in place.

"Do not think that because I cannot remember you, that you can spread your legs for any man who is willing to get you where you need to go." His mercury eyes were swirling with passionate rage, his tone leaving her no room to argue, his heated words spraying her face with a light mist of spittle. Despite his angry facade, when Draco pressed his hip bones into the soft flesh of her waist Isla felt his hardening cock through the very thin material of his tights, his dominant position quickly turning him on as she suddenly wiggled under his weight. "You will not demean yourself, or me, by lowering your moralities to finish this mission. There is no hurry for us to find the necklace, it will always be there, and therefore we are doing things my way from now on out. Clearly you have no experience in successful jewelry theft and retrieval."

Isla's lips tightened at his brisk words and suggestive demands, her teeth biting down on the plump underside of her bottom lip as she drew blood in order to calm the temper that was threatening to explode. She tilted her head to the side and gently arched her back, her corset bound and pushed up breasts enticingly pressing against his chest, pink tongue slipping out to swipe the seam of her bottom lip before pulling it back between her teeth, sudden sexual tension obvious as Draco's silver gaze diverted and unfocused at her actions. Their mouths were barely an inch away, a gentle rocking of one of their hips from meeting as only knowing lover's lips do.

The moment both of them readied to end the distance between their hungry mouths, lips parting in anticipation, someone loudly shuffled through the thick curtains nearby before calling with irritation.

"Drake!" William bellowed. "Where are you? We have to start rehearsals. Surely a man as handsome as _you _does not have stage fright!"

They heard the playwright chuckle at his own joke, still searching for the blonde wizard as he drew closer. Draco placed one foot back and took a step away from Isla as his large hands dropped from the stones. Longing and a trail of confusion marred his handsome face and Isla dropped her gaze under his scrutiny until her eyes caught on the noticeable bulge in his costume and she smirked proudly.

"You might want to take care of that before you go out there or else those men will think you're all randy for them."

A tinge of a blush crept up Draco's neck and cheeks and he frowned at her biting words as he realized she was right but instead of admitting that, he placed one hand over his tightly clad package and _hmph'_ed before hastily turning his shoulders and walking through an opening of curtains and disappearing to end William's taunting search.

A normal breathing pattern rushed through Isla's lungs and she blinked quickly as her sweating hands gripped the sheets of paper containing the play's script. She could hear William and the other actors greeting Draco loudly as he appeared on stage and she righted her footing before shakily moving through the dressing room to putter around the backstage area before slipping past the main curtain and down a side set of stairs. The large group of actors was gathered in a circle around William as he slowly spun to look at them all.

"Alright, men," William addressed the crowd. Isla crept up the center staircase to find her regular seat looking over the stage and sat down quickly to watch, her sapphire eyes roaming over the various extravagant and several cross-dressing costumes of the professional actors. "We will start from Act II, Scene I when Oberon first enters the forest, after Puck and the Fairy have conversed." The dark haired man turned to nod at Draco, his hands clasped behind his back as he smirked evilly at the blonde. "Drake, do you need a script for your lines?"

"No," Draco firmly responded, his body terse as he stiffly responded. "I know my lines, thank you."

William nodded mockingly and rotated his hips to gaze over the other actors waiting for his command.

"Places, gentlemen," Shakespeare called loudly, happily smiling across the men.

Isla watched and waited as Draco stood still and the other actors moved about until only Henry, who was dressed as and playing Titania, was standing on the stage across from the blonde wizard, gaggles of separate trains for the fairy royalty waiting in the wings on either side of the stage. William had progressed to stand in front of the stage on the ground floor and he held open a script as he nodded to the men and began pacing back and forth, his written lines echoing as they recited his words.

"Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania," Draco proclaimed, his deep voice confident as he blanked his face to become a stoic Oberon.

"What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence: / I have forsworn his bed and company." Henry was well versed and his falsely high voice was a fair imitation of a female as he spoke fluently.

"Tarry, rash wanton: am not I thy lord?"

"Then I must be thy lady: but I know  
>When thou hast stolen away from fairy land,<br>And in the shape of Corin sat all day,  
>Playing on pipes of corn and versing love<br>To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here,  
>Come from the farthest Steppe of India?<br>But that, forsooth, the bouncing Amazon,  
>Your buskin'd mistress and your warrior love,<br>To Theseus must be wedded, and you come  
>To give their bed joy and prosperity."<p>

"How canst thou thus for shame, Titania,  
>Glance at my credit with Hippolyta,<br>Knowing I know thy love to Theseus?  
>Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night<br>From Perigenia, whom he ravished?  
>And make him with fair AEgle break his faith,<br>With Ariadne and Antiopa?"

Isla was astounded that Draco knew Oberon's lines word for word and her lips parted slightly as she gained a new respect for the blonde man who she now knew was still full of many secrets and mysteries even after all their years together.

"These are the forgeries of jealousy:  
>And never, since the middle summer's spring,<br>Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,  
>By paved fountain or by rushy brook,<br>Or in the beached margent of the sea,  
>To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,<br>But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.  
>Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,<br>As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea  
>Contagious fogs; which falling in the land<br>Have every pelting river made so proud  
>That they have overborne their continents:"<p>

Henry continued with his long lines of text and Isla's sapphire eyes darted across the parchment as she followed his words on the script's page.

She knew it was coming but when Draco's rich voice resounded across the empty theater, goose bumps shivered across Isla's skin and her gaze was drawn upwards as she watched him steadily walk around Henry.

"Do you amend it then; it lies in you:  
>Why should Titania cross her Oberon?<br>I do but beg a little changeling boy,  
>To be my henchman."<p>

The rest of the Act was a rushed blur as Isla's eyes did not leave Draco's outline as the scenes progressed. She failed to notice William turn back occasionally to watch her, his brown eyes frowning and his lips turning down every time he noticed her intent stare at the blonde man. Draco did not miss William's obvious obsession with Isla and he purposefully faltered or hesitated his lines until the dark haired director turned back to the stage and glared disdainfully at the new actor.

The remaining three Acts passed quickly and William announced that they would take an hour for lunch before starting at the beginning once more. Turning around with a flourish, an excited grin turning up the corners of his bearded mouth, William tossed the script to the ledge of the stage before striding across the empty foreground and up the rickety stairs as he approached Isla. From his position on the stage, Draco narrowed his grey eyes and watched as the medieval man approached his blonde counterpart. She glanced at his peering stare before tightly smiling as William stopped just in front of her and she turned her head up to look at him. Her side view saw a mop of white hair moving quickly but she could not move to see what Draco was doing as William began speaking.

"Isla, my dear, I was wondering if you would accompany me to a tavern just down the street for a light meal?"

The man was persistent and she opened to lips to politely decline when a tall shadow preceded Draco as he stood practically on top of the wooden bench as he inched forward until his knee was touching Isla's.

"Sorry, Willy," he announced scornfully. "The lady has a date with me."

William frowned and glanced from the stockier blonde man to Isla as his dark eyebrows rose in question. Presented with two options, she knew she wanted to put distance between herself and both men but also understood that both males would not back down merely because she told them to. Draco was going to follow her every footstep until they found a way home and William would stalk her shadow until she showed him some affection.

So why not kill two birds with one stone? She could get a free meal and toy with both men's emotions if she played her cards right. Something needed to be done to make this mistake of a time travel worth the effort that would eventually be put into it.

"Why don't we all go together?" She brightly suggested, both Draco and William inhaling slightly as they audibly gasped at the idea. They were hesitant to meet the others disdained gaze but reluctantly the men boldly stared down as Isla smirked conspiratorially and jumped up, William stepping backwards as the trio stood closely. "Alright, it's decided. Lead the way, Shakespeare!"

Neither wanting to be outdone by the other or to appear openly rude to a woman, the very different men conceded with a nod and William moved to step in front of the pair as he walked towards the stairs to once more tread down the wooden boards as they slowly departed for lunch.

"I'm going to kill you for this!" Draco tersely proclaimed as he bent his head towards Isla as they walked side by side behind William. She glanced to him on her left and a winning smirk and one cocked eyebrow showed her amusement at his immediate discomfort with entertaining another man while they needed to be strategizing. A gentle chuckle pulled her pink lips apart and William paused to look back and wait for them as he frowned impatiently.

The tavern was a block down the street and Isla shivered in displeasure as they entered the dimly lit bar and restaurant with mainly male customers who immediately leered at the sight of a busty blonde. William lightly gripped her elbow and steered them to a small table underneath a large glass window that looked out onto the cobblestone streets of London. Draco quickly moved to the far side of the table, turning to easily pull out the chair next to him for Isla as she nodded her thanks and sat down. William took the seat directly across from her and folded his arms across the edge of the table as the blonde pair situated themselves and glanced over the room for any appearance of a waitress or barmaid. A heavyset woman with frazzled red hair pulled back in a messy bun waddled to the table and cheerfully beamed at the small party.

"'Ello Will'am!" She greeted happily. "Aye 'aven't seen ya 'ere in aw'ile."

"Ahh, you know how it is, Rosemary, the life of a writer," William airily responded, his dark head tilted towards the barmaid. "My friends and I will have three pints of your finest ale and three bowls of beef stew."

The woman nodded happily and glanced to his two blonde companions as she turned to waddle away. "I'll get t'at righ' ouu fah ya."

Silence fell over the table as the trio awkwardly stared at each other until Isla dropped her hands to her lap and pointedly asked, "William, what are you intending to write your play about for the Queen?"

His dark face lit up as he was given the chance to talk about himself and William blinked rapidly to quickly think through his jumbled thoughts on the matter, his vanity preening at her question causing him to miss Isla's gesture as her left arm slid over the railing of her chair and her small hand gripped the rounded arm of Draco's seat, the blonde wizard's attention distracted as he glanced sideways at her encroaching hand.

"Well, I want it to be more of a tragedy, something that will really capture the audience's attention," William began rambling on. "It will have to be dramatic and gut wrenching, something to make them gasp and moan with every changing scene. I think it should be a love story."

Isla nodded encouragingly, her brain focused on the location of her moving hand as it slipped onto the ledge of the seat before crawling up Draco's thigh to lightly touch his open palm as she said, "That sounds interesting! Like ill-fated lovers who must defy the odds to be together?" She suggested, inwardly cheering as William's chocolate eyes lit up in excitement.

"I think you may be on to something there," he agreed.

Draco tightened his frown and without breaking his silent stare at the dark haired male, he flexed his fingers around Isla's creeping hand and dug his nails into the fleshy skin of the top of her hand. Her appendage tensed but she held her smile in place as she tried to wiggle her hand free, ignoring Draco's displeasure at her direct referral to the direction of the famous author's play. Moments later she was able to release his grasp and she covered the sudden jerking of her arm by leaning her elbow into the table in front of her and placing her hand on the top of a fist as she peered at William, seemingly completely interested in what he was saying.

Rosemary returned to breathlessly place their metal tankards of ale on the wooden table, amber liquid sloshing over the brims to pool beneath the circular bases as the trio murmured thanks and the barmaid shuffled away.

"I think I could come up with some pretty good ideas for your plays," Isla flirtatiously remarked, her dark eyelashes batting as William grinned over the top of his drink.

"I would love to hear them," he replied, his bearded face leaning forward as Isla pressed her upper arms against the sides of her breasts to push them together provocatively as her blonde head tilted to the side innocently, a grin stealing her lips.

"That can be arranged."

Draco cleared his throat loudly, his knee jerking to knock the table and draw the stares of both his table mates. _Either she's trying to goad me into a jealous rage or she thinks she can win his affections to make this journey simpler,_ he thought, agitation tightening the ticking muscle of his jaw as Isla openly rolled her eyes in his direction and giggled conspiratorially at William.

The playwright was very obviously enjoying Isla's falsified attentions and took advantage of Draco's heated stare to sneer triumphantly and wink slyly. Draco placed one hand over his jumping knee and firmly gripped his thigh to still the torrent of anger tornadoeing quickly within his costumed chest. All biting conversation was stalled as Rosemary once more returned, wobbling bowls precariously balanced on her thick arm as she manhandled a loaf of bread in the other hand.

"'ere ya ahh," she proclaimed as the dishes of stew spilled across the table as the ale had. "Anythin' else aye cun get fa ya?"

"No. Thank you," Draco rushed before either could open their mouths to respond and Rosemary glanced mysteriously at William before nodding and turning to slowly stride away.

Conversation pertaining to the soon to be infamous author ceased as the famished group eagerly grasped their crude spoons and practically lapped the stew from the bowls. Not wanting to sit and listen to Isla regale about William's unpenned stories and plays, Draco hastily balled his napkin in his lap and flicked his wrist under the table to silently transfigure the cloth into what he assumed would pass for this century's money. As William leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms out on either side of them before laying his right forearm across the back of the seat next to him, Draco pushed back his own chair and stood as he threw a handful of poorly imitated coins on the table.

"Shall we get back to work?" He asked, his voice falsely chipper as he tightly smiled at his companions. Isla could attempt to seduce William, although he doubted it would be too difficult as the dark haired man kept his dirty stare on the blonde witch, but Draco would not tolerate to witness her forceful actions without physical repercussions. His thin hand gripped the back of her chair and he none too gently pulled it back as she frowned and huffed in his general direction.

Neither person commented as Draco brushed past a standing William and Isla to lead the way past various tables to the exit of the tavern. He wrenched open the splitting wooden door and the bright sunlight fell into the dingy restaurant as several patrons groaned at the light and he smiled disconcertingly, holding the door ajar until William and Isla passed through. Draco walked behind the pair as they moved to return to the theater, their hips brushing with every other step and their evenly matched heights bringing their heads closely together as they whispered softly, an engaging giggle peeling apart Isla's lips every so often as William grinned dashingly at his own humor.

Draco was both nauseated and enraged at their display, furious at William for openly chasing a woman who steadfastly proclaimed she was otherwise engaged and at Isla for triggering his arrogant selfishness with her inner knowledge of his personality. The witch was trying her damnedest to infuriate his already fragile mental state and Draco did not think he would be able to stomach her wanton advances for another man for many more days, hell probably hours, without vocalizing his thoughts and sentiments on the matter.

The theater was brimming with renewed energy when the trio finally entered the open stadium stage, the actors replenished from a hearty meal as they loudly spoke and jested while waiting for their director to return and shout orders. Draco left William and Isla to their own devices as he jumped up the side stairs to walk to the front of the stage, his tall blonde head drawing the silence of his fellow actors as they watched him move to turn and face the motley dressed crew. Nodding approvingly, Draco glanced over his shoulder at the pair of the ground floor as they remained in conversation until Isla quickly peered around at the quiet and William finished speaking as her attention was lost from his words.

"Gentlemen," he yelled with irritation, his dark head turning to the men as his body followed suit and he moved to stand in front of Isla. "We're starting from Act I, Scene I. Find your positions and begin in five minutes."

"Aren't you going to join us on stage?" An anxious Charles Worthington called from the back of the crowd, the abundant glitter and pastel colors telling Draco that the young man was forced into his first role playing a fairy.

"No," William replied, his chocolate eyes stealing a smile at Isla, further proving that their flirtations were going to make Draco physically sick. "I am going to watch from the audience, get a different perspective to better judge your acting abilities."

But Draco did not see William watching the rehearsal at all as he and Isla almost sat on top of each other on the first row of benches facing the center of the stage. Their conversation did not stop and the actors continued through the five Acts without pause in the hopes that William would dismiss the company early today. Instead when the play was finished, the dark haired man waved his hand in a wide circle to indicate for them to do it over, never breaking his gaze from Isla's beautiful face. Draco failed to see the merit in practicing their scenes if the bloody director of the show was not even paying attention and his blood boiled further with every sly glance Isla shot him when he recited his lines as if making sure he was still aware of her actions.

By the time the fifth Act was completed for a second consecutive time, William stood from the hard bench and stretched his appendages as he finally looked to the stage where his actors were waiting for his word to leave the theater. The sun was nearly set when William leaped off the final step with Isla closely following as they approached the raised edge of the stage.

"Great work, men," he called cheerfully. "Everyone read over their lines and be back here tomorrow before nine ah'clock."

A rumble of consent passed over the group of actors and they all turned to go their separate ways as William eagerly faced Isla and moved to escort her to his office and study, his arm bending gently to offer her his guidance. Anger seething at the man's presumptuousness, Draco bolted across the stage and jumped off the ledge to the dirt floor with a soft _thump _as he straightened to lengthen his strides and quickly walk up behind Isla. His firm grasp seized her elbow and she turned, her face scrunched up in annoyance as she prepared to berate whoever dared to touch her until she realized it was Draco and closed her gaping mouth.

"I need to speak to you," he swiftly pronounced, William opening his mouth to protest as he quickly added, "Alone."

Isla was not given the opportunity to decline his offer when Draco jerked her closer, his spastic movements causing her ocean eyes to widen as she thought he was going to Apparate them from the spot, and began dragging her none too politely towards the shadowed door beneath the stadium seating. William attempted to follow the pair inside but Draco threw a scathing glare over his shoulder when he heard the footsteps and the dark haired man stopped his progression.

The slight door opened and she barely noticed the furnishings of the familiar office space before Draco flung open the smaller door to their temporary bedroom and shoved it shut behind their rapid movements. Isla spun to face the furious blonde wizard in the tight space between the wall and the small bed they had enlarged, her face betraying the calm demeanor her body wished to give off.

"What's this all about?" She huffed, arms crossing over the bodice of her gown as she cocked a hip to the side and glared at Draco.

He did not say anything but stared thoughtfully, the icy mask in place as his silver orbs roamed over her haughty stance.

"You can't ignore me for two weeks then become amazingly jealous when I speak to another man. That is not how this relationship works, Draco!"

Her exasperation was contagious and the inches taller wizard sucked in a controlled breath as his fury erupted and his quick hands braced her shoulders tightly, shaking slightly as his grasp compressed further. His hold was constricting and Isla struggled to get free as Draco stepped closer.

"In case you forgot, your mistake got us here in the first place. Do **not **tell me what I can or cannot do. And you certainly do not tell me whether I have the right to be envious of your whorish affections for another man. Who I might add, is not the man you swore was your intended just days ago in Scotland!"

Draco released one hand to brush away a chunk of blonde locks that had fallen in his eyes and he saw his mistake the instant Isla pulled back her arm to hit him. He expected a slap to the face but her flying fist caused his grey eyes to widen and his head jerked back an inch before her knuckles connected with his jaw, the momentum forcing his head to turn with her fist as instant pain released his right hand to grasp the injured area before Isla had drawn her arm back. Draco's left wrist flicked expertly and grabbed her retreating arm in a vice like grip as his blazing grey eyes burned holes into her smug face.

"Call me a whore again and see what happens," Isla taunted, her gaze victorious as they both knew he would never raise his hand to a woman.

"I don't have to," Draco spit out. "Only whores react so violently to being called by their true nature."

He was testing her limits and knew she would attack again but was ready this time when Isla scrunched up her face in momentary hatred and let her free arm spring back to ready for another blow to the other side of his face. Draco dropped his right hand from his swelling jaw and lightning fast gripped her propelled arm as it came within inches of grazing his bruise free cheek. The physicality within their relationship had always excited him more than most would deem socially acceptable but Draco could not contain his dick once Isla would start squirming and test his patience for control. Even now, he thought the crotch of his tights was going to bust open as his cock hardened immensely, his arms pulling Isla forward by the wrists as she strained under his strength.

"We're doing things my way," he whispered, his voice lethally low, their faces inches apart. "You don't talk to **anyone **unless I say you can."

"I was telling William about _you_," Isla ground out. "About us."

Draco forced an eyebrow up and a sneer pulled back his lips across his white teeth before he said, "I'm _sure _William I-can't-keep-my-eyes-off-your-breasts Shakespeare is really interested in our romantic history."

Isla did not immediately respond as the short gears worked in her head but an identical sneer replaced her gaping mouth of panicked anger as her blonde head tilted forward until their faces were almost uncomfortably close.

"You're jealous," she stated, warm breath caressing Draco's inflamed and bruised jaw, her pink tongue licking down the middle of her bottom lip before biting down on its plump center and pulling it back between her teeth.

His grey eyes caught the movement and stilled as his gaze held to her lips before guiltily glancing back up to meet her gaze before, so rapidly it seemed like time stopped, his hands released their grip on her wrists and thickly cupped either side of her face as his mouth pressed forward to crush passionately against Isla's parted lips. Her surprised breath echoed through his increasingly rough kiss but Draco did not pause as he attacked her mouth like a man depraved of water in the desert. Burgeoning, reawakened arousal climbed up and over Isla's angry and anxious nerves and melted her resistance in seconds as her hands wrapped around his tapered waist to bring their bodies closer together.

Draco did not like her easy acceptance though and broke free of the kiss as his hands pushed her away by the shoulders. Honey eyebrows rose in second surprise but Isla smirked devilishly as she shoved her weight forward again and prepared to knock Draco back onto the bed, hands raised to push against his muscled chest.

Surprise was the name of the game as Draco, once more, grasped her shoulders, halting her rushing force only to jerk her to the side and throw her backwards onto the unmade bed. Still playing the tease, Isla straightened slightly as her ass scooted away from Draco and towards the opposite stone wall. Her grin was in place and she purposefully swiped her tongue across her lips to draw his attention but the gesture only served to push another of his buttons and Draco growled menacingly as he dropped his knees to the mattress and rapidly crawled to hover over Isla. His lips captured hers brutally and she moaned into the aggressiveness of the moment and arched her back into his chest, his never forgetful fingers spreading across the bodice of her gown as electric shocks buzzed through the fabric under Draco's warm touch. Biting teeth nipped at her lips and Isla groaned as his flaming kisses left her mouth to trail down her neck to her exposed upper chest, pausing atop her collarbones to pinch the sensitive skin between his teeth before moving his love bites further south, a squeal jerking Isla's hips off the bed as his beard tickled her skin.

Thinking his sexual advances had slowed his rising temper, Isla reached her trembling hands up to weave them through Draco's flaxen locks as his bristled face suctioned and nipped at her heaving chest. The instant her grip found purchase atop his head, Draco stopped his movement and leaned back onto his haunches, his weight sitting on Isla's thighs as his spread knees kept her hips in place. She cocked her head to the side and grinned playfully but Draco placed a hand on her sternum to halt her premeditated motions only to slip his fingertips between the running seam and rip the material apart as his magically enhanced grip tore through the thick bodice and the constricting corset to reveal creamy stomach skin. Isla startled and attempted to cover her now exposed breasts and hardened rosy nipples but Draco was quicker and smirked arrogantly as his fingers twisted and an invisible force pulled Isla's wrists together painfully, stretching her arms without heed to her pain as they stilled just above her head.

Her arms jerked against the irritatingly tight restraints and a flash of panicked fear crossed her face and stayed in her sapphire eyes as Draco watched with stiff arousal, the momentary passing of fright sending his head into a spinning sense of deja-vu. His grey eyes shut to quell the sudden dizziness but Isla's temporarily scared face remained in his mind's eye, a random memory triggered as his brain saw her sprawled across bloody wooden floors, an unconscious man laid across her lap as she glanced around at two prone, and very likely dead, bodies. The look was gone from her face when he opened his eyes, blatant defiance shining through as she decided to fight him on every move he made but the raging storm of anger within his chest hardened his erect cock against the straining tights he still wore and Draco literally grabbed each breast in one hand, his expert thumbs flicking her dusty nipples as Isla fought a moan.

Her hips rocked underneath his pressing weight and it was Draco's turn to suppress a groan of indulgence as Isla fidgeted, her seemingly larger breasts heaving in time with her rapid heartbeat as he pinched her overtly sensitive nipples. Realizing that despite her sounds of enjoyment Isla would gladly attempt to escape her submissive position if given even the slightest chance, Draco tossed his head back to throw clumps of hair off his sweaty brow and pushed one shoulder back as he removed his touch from her left breast to roll his wrist shortly.

An ominous ripping tore Isla's dress from the ragged seam in the middle past her thighs to send a breeze over the newly exposed skin as Draco genuinely smiled, his face lighting up like a child on Christmas morning. She was now fully naked and lying on a bed of her own torn gown, unwillingly submissive to him as he pushed his weight backwards; the final touch leaving her as he briskly removed his blouse and tore at the emerald tights until they too were ripped from his legs.

Placing his hands on her naked thighs to keep her from moving, Draco parted her legs while lifting one knee then the other to press into the space of the mattress between her parting thighs and his palms slid down her thighs until he grasped her knees and pushed them backwards against the bed. His stance widened and Isla lifted her head to look down her body at his naked cock standing to attention. Her tongue licked her dry lips unconsciously as she stared at the pulsing, fat head and the bead of precum that so deliciously hung off the tip.

Her legs quit resisting his pressure and Draco released his tight grasp on her splayed thighs when one hand moved to stroke his needy cock and the other turned at the wrist to lightly run two fingers up her dripping slit, blood engorging her lips further as his middle finger easily slipped into her moist pussy and diddled her clit. Isla's hips bucked into his intimate touch and Draco grinned at her reaction, his cock growing harder still in his hand and his fingers smearing her juices over the outer lips before quickly pressing two fingers inside her tight channel, his thumb rubbing her clit as Isla thrashed around his hand.

His cock continued to be stroked but Draco stilled his fingers in Isla's pussy, waiting until she opened her eyes and met his gaze to slowly begin working his slippery digits inside her again.

"Answer me this," Draco puzzled, harsh anger twisting the illusion of confusion he hoped to portray, his fingers gently pulling out of her pussy until three fingers were pinching and rolling her clit. "Why would I be jealous of you flirting with William when you so clearly will fuck any man who asks?"

_Women are so predictable,_ Draco thought and per his arrogant thinking, Isla began to struggle fiercely after his goading words and her hips bucked at the exact instant that he leaned forward. His hands released the opposing sexes of them both and Draco reached to harshly grip Isla's moving waist as the steeled tip of his cock pressed past her wet lips and efficiently into her velvety pussy. She groaned at the sudden intrusion, his rather large size tearing at her slick walls that had not felt use in months.

He did not give her the moments to adjust and thrust his hips quickly, pushing his thick cock in by the inches as they both groaned, Draco in sweet relief and Isla suppressing the tremor of a whimper of pain that begged to follow her moan. He peeled open his grey eyes that had at some point during the brief beginning of his pleasure shut and glanced at Isla's scrunched up face as her arms struggled against the invisible rope, her breasts jiggling as she attempted to not move her hips with his movements. She was still for the most part unresponsive so Draco left one hand gripping her waist and moved the other between their linked bodies to rub her clit, finally an erotic moan causing her jaw to extend and her mouth to open in a soundless moan.

Isla's pussy clenched his rock hard cock and exhausted the meaty shaft as Draco's ass cheeks squeezed and he thrust largely in one motion to bury the remainder of his cock in her pulsing pussy. His thumb was joined by an index finger to pull at her clit and in an expert ploy of sexual conquest, Isla felt her muscles stiffen and contract in the same second as a numbing orgasm pulled the breath from her lungs. One more thrust and Draco came with a flourish, her pussy milking his cock as his hot speed spilled deep within her womb. His hips slowed as the aftershocks of their orgasms steadied their movements and Draco pulled his barely softening cock from her cunt, a stream of their mixed juices sliding out of her opening to slosh onto the remainders of her gown and the rumpled sheets of the bed.

Draco turned and stepped off the mattress, his weight shifting the bed as Isla looked up to his turned back as he searched for clean clothing on the small floor space. The spread joints of her hips ached, her pussy still throbbing, and she hesitantly lifted each leg up until it was straightened and the muscles were only slightly aching. Her wrists were still bound and it was only appropriately cruel that she seemed to be pinned to the spot as well.

"Draco!" Isla whined, her halfhearted plea stilling his motions for nair but a second as he pulled an outrageously costumed blouse over his blonde head.

"Draco!" She called again but he ignored her voice as he grabbed a pair of boots and sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her, guilt very closely forcing him to turn around and apologize for his irrational behavior. Unfortunately he was just out of reach or else she would have kicked her heel just below his kidneys to get his attention. "Draco, release the spell. My wrists hurt."

He did not seem to hear her and stood wearily, the tight fit of the medieval clothing affording Isla an idealistic view of Draco's trim figure. She would have enjoyed it too if he had not tied her up, fucked her senselessly, and was now readying to leave her there, naked and bound. A large hand brushed through his tangled blonde locks and Draco sighed heavily as his grey eyes searched through the folds of discarded clothing for his wand.

"Draco, I'm serious!" Isla yelled. "Undo. The. Spell."

"Making demands never gets you anything, love," he blandly said without looking at her, his wand shoving into the waist of his trousers as he quickly paced to the door.

"Draco -" Isla tried defeatedly. "Please."

His hand stilled on the handle, turning the knob and opening the door but he was halfway out the entrance before his fingers twitched and his wrist flicked at the bed, Isla's arms spastically jerking as the spell released her wrists. Draco slipped through the door and fought not to look back at the ultimate pain he would see on her face, instead looking forward as vague memories washed through his mind. Her blue eyes opened tiredly, lips parting to ungraciously thank him, and Isla blinked around the room as Draco's luminescent blonde head disappeared into the shadows of William's office, the bedroom door clicking shut with a resounding hollow.

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**A/N:**

**Hmm. First real lemon of the story. I think it deserves some reviews. Well, more than one :)  
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**Tell me what you think because there's the possibility of another one somewhere down the line...**

**Also, much thanks to the Queen of Mean and Amie Mae for becoming last minutes Betas and for helping along the plot of this chapter. **


	11. I Will Try to Fix You

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure. **

**For your full listening experience, look up "Fix You" by Coldplay and let it play while you read. The song is beautiful and is my chosen melody for this chapter. The song is also on my playlist for this story which is linked on my profile and my Facebook page. **

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**Chapter Eleven – I Will Try to Fix You **

Sweltering, hot tears ran down her heated cheeks as Isla turned onto her side and curled into the fetal position as silent sobs racked her naked body. Passionately aggressive sex was one thing but Draco's complete rejection afterwards tore at the very fabric of her heart and soul.

How fair was it that he could not remember her but he could still fuck her as if a day had not passed since their last hasty coupling at his cottage?

How could Draco touch her so expertly and claim to have no knowledge of their romantic past?

She lay curled up on the bed, time seeming to slow as her blue eyes remained unfocused on the stone wall. One leg cramped up and she turned over to fall onto her back and the pile of mixed fluids wet her calve. Isla jumped up at the contact and another wave of distraught tears cascaded past her dark eyelashes, her feet scrambling across the bed as she stood shivering, staring at the bed as if she wished it would suddenly burn aflame. Slight juices ran down the insides of her thighs and Isla grimaced, her knees bending as she waddled to the pile of discarded clothing to search for one of Draco's clean shirts. She grabbed a semi folded navy shirt and bunched the material to wipe it across her soiled thighs, throwing the blouse atop the pile as if nothing were amiss. Her gaze caught on markings around her curvy hips and tears gathered but did not fall as Isla realized the red swellings would become bruises in testament of Draco's force.

Her fingers reached for a white nightgown, the same one she had worn the first night she had landed at the theater, and shoved her arms through the openings as the scratchy garment fell over her blonde head. Determined not to shed another tear for the bastard of a man who had just walked out of the bedroom, taking her heart with him, Isla found her wand and gripped it reassuringly as she muttered a _Scourgify_ charm at the dirtied sheets before flicking her wrist to watch the bedding fold and make itself presentable once more.

Isla dropped to the edge of the bed, her hands coming up to hold her face as she shook her head slowly at the stupidity of her actions in general. It was her fault they were in this mess and by some standards, Draco had every right to leave her hanging. But nothing excused his rough treatment.

Although Isla grinned randomly at the pain in her right hand, remembering the look of shock on his face when she had punched him.

A brief knock on the door jerked her curly head up and she looked hesitantly to the wooden frame as if it would open to reveal her worst nightmare.

"Isla, love. It's me... William. Can I come in?"

She sniffled loudly, her blue eyes wide as she nodded mutely until realizing that he could not see her.

"Yes," she hoarsely responded.

His dark and curly head was bent when the door opened but William looked up anxiously as his gaze halted at the enlarged bed before moving up to meet Isla's tear filled stare.

"I saw Drake leave ..." He began, his hand not clutching the door handle gesturing behind him to explain why he was there now. "He looked ticked. Did something happen?"

His words were innocent enough but Isla heard the eager lilt to his voice and Draco's earlier proclamation rang loudly in her head.

_"I'm sure William I-can't-keep-my-eyes-off-your-breasts Shakespeare is really interested in our romantic history."_

The thought forced a tight smile to her lips and Isla shook her head loosely, her horrible tendency to lie effortlessly parting her lips easily.

"No, everything is fine," she reassured him. "He's just nervous about the play and getting his lines right."

"Then what are those?" William asked, a finger pointing at her exposed neckline as his chocolate eyes stared below her jaw.

A hand reached up and Isla tucked her chin against her neck as she looked closely at her own skin. It was obvious now that he was referring to the numerous hickies Draco had left on her body and she hurriedly clutched the lapels of her nightgown to pull the pieces of fabric over her chest.

"Did he do something to you?" William again questioned, his hand falling free of the metal door knob as he walked the short distance to kneel in front of Isla, his knees parting to drop to the floor at her feet. "Did he hurt you?"

She bitterly laughed and held back the band of tears that threatened to give away her proud demeanor.

"Draco has hurt me more than you could imagine." William tensed at her words, his wrinkled and bearded face opening in hasty anger before she added, "It's all in here," pointing to her heart.

He sighed heavily and took both her smaller hands in his own, his hips pushing forward as he properly kneeled.

"I would never mistreat you as your beloved does now," he solemnly promised. "You are a rose without thorns and I would spend the rest of my days writing verses about your beauty and charm if you would let me."

"What of your wife?" Isla blurted, the words drawing a shaken response from William as his mouth gaped with no noise emitting, silent for once. "Are you not married?"

Black curls fell across his forehead, his neck bending to allow his head to fall in shame.

"Anne is her own woman. We have not spoken in many months now," William admitted softly. "But she does not hold a flame to you, Isla," he earnestly added, his gaze now intent on her dubious face.

Before she could react or move her surprised jaw and realizing a second after his grip on her hands tightened what he was planning, he rushed forward to press his lips against her mouth. The kiss was more of a face rape as William rapidly tilted his head from side to side and pushed his tongue inside the confines of her mouth to wiggle it over the ridges of her teeth.

"William! What are you doing!" Isla screamed when she finally shoved his leaning body away. "Just because you think I had a fight with my lover does not mean you can come in here and attack me!"

Dark eyebrows met in a harsh line below perfect lines of wrinkles, an angry frown turning down the corners of his lips as William abruptly stood, throwing her hands from his grasp as he glared at Isla.

"Do not fool yourself into believing that you are something special, love. You are just another man's concubine," he spat before glancing her up and down pathetically and moving as fast as he could in the small space to reach the door and slam it shut behind him as he dramatically exited.

She had thought her head was spinning before but now Isla blinked slowly over her dry eyes to stop the dizzy rushing of her head, her eyebrows raised incredulously as unrestrained tears appeared once more and her big, blue eyes quivered before her lips peeled apart to let a low groan of anguish escape. Everything seemed so bleak. Nothing was going right. But of course there was no one to blame but herself. Draco's mind was fairly empty of memories and past feelings and yet she still expected him to shag her senseless whenever they were alone. She did not want to see the side of his personality that disregarded women's emotions for his own pleasure, rumors and tales from their Hogwarts' years spiraling in the vortex of her jumbled thoughts reminding Isla that he had once given himself away freely.

Ignoring the loud protests of her empty stomach, she turned to crawl back up the bed to pull the newly made sheets from their neat tuckings and slide under the covers. Tears now falling freely as her mind replayed the recent saddening events, Isla held the blankets up against her chin as her curvy figure adjusted to the large mattress and her curly head snuggled into a lumpy pillow. Her blue eyes stared blankly, happier memories floating through her thoughts as her eyelids grew heavier and heavier until they closed gently with a soft sigh, dreams capturing her consciousness that drew more from reality than she wished to admit.

**.**

_Draco lay on his side, silky black sheet draping over his naked waist as he held his blonde head in his hand and watched Isla sleep. She was lying on her stomach facing him and the even puffs of her breath were repeatedly blowing an errant curl away from her nose. Her naked back dipped seductively and the curve of her ass was pronounced slightly by bunching sheets falling over the dimples in the small of her back. _

_"If you keep staring at me I'm going to turn the other way," she mumbled sleepily. Draco grinned happily and a thin hand brushed across her forehead, her blue eyes opening slowly as she met his grey gaze. _

_This was the first morning they had woken up together after many secret rendezvouses and a hidden courtship and the blonde wizard did not know why he had ever hesitated to allow his co-worker to spend the night when waking up the next morning holding her luscious body felt so right. _

_"How did I ever get so lucky to have such a beautiful witch fall in love with me?" Draco asked rhetorically, his inner musings earning a slow smirk from Isla as she tilted her head to look at him better. _

_"What makes you think that I love you?" She questioned playfully, honey eyebrows arching with a tease as a small hand slid up the bed to rest beside her face next to the pillow. _

_"For one, you just said you did," Draco replied cheekily, his muscled torso lightly shaking as he held in a laugh at the sexy pout that puckered Isla's lips. "And two, how could you not? I mean, I'm like the total package." _

_"Wow," Isla said with fake incredulity. "Ego much?" _

_Draco grinned handsomely and placed a large hand on her bare back to pull her forward against his chest, their naked limbs tangling beneath the silken sheets. _

_"You love stroking my big ego," he whispered, his rich voice dropping an octave as Isla grinned girlishly and placed her short fingers against his stubbled jaw. _

_"No," she affirmed. "But I do love you."_

_"Ah ha!" Draco triumphed. "I knew you did. You really shouldn't be afraid to tell me how great I am, love. I never get tired of hearing it." _

_Isla playfully smacked his chest but her gaze was serious when she inched her face closer to his until their noses were barely touching. Draco let the glorious sneer fall from his features to become a hesitant half frown, half smile as his full lips parted gently. _

_The distance was covered easily and it was a scant second before their lips met familiarly, Draco gripping Isla by the back of her neck as he kept her in place as his fervent mouth left her lips slightly swollen and parted, breathless from an early morning kiss of passion. Their foreheads touched sweetly and Draco focused Isla's gaze as he hesitated before speaking. _

_"I love you too," he said and for the first time since his mother's passing, Draco meant those four small words. _

_Tears of joy whet the corners of her eyes and Isla sighed contentedly, her shoulders relaxing as she leaned forward once more to press her lips against Draco's. New love was coursing through their veins, exciting their eager mouths and both blondes were anxiously awaiting the journeys that would come with their budding relationship, anticipating the memories that would be sure to build the foundation of their lives together. _

**.**

The sun was peaking over the tops of the shabby London buildings, a biting winter wind shaking his clothing as Draco drunkenly stumbled over the uneven cobblestones until he dazedly yanked on the door knob to enter the theater. His facial hair was more unkempt than usual and he pressed a flat hand to his matted blonde hair, stroking the messy locks absently. He staggered against the shadowed walls and cursed to himself as he struggled to find the dark outline of the hidden door to that damned Shakespeare's rooms.

Thankfully no one else was awake at the this hour or Draco would have been embarrassed to be seen so unorganized. Well better yet, he would be embarrassed at his actions once he was sober and painfully remembered any blanch worthy remarks he had made.

He had left Isla naked in the bedroom the previous night and hurriedly left the theater to escape the waves of guilt, shame, and remorse that had immediately plagued him. The strange broken look in her blue eyes had left him wondering what else he had done in their past to warrant such a distraught stare but Draco had not let himself ponder on the subject because his blonde head was still spinning with fractured memories, distorted images filling his brain as if their hasty coupling had triggered pieces of his lost consciousness. It did not take long for his feet to find the dark path to the dingy tavern from earlier in the day and he made sure he was well past inebriated by the time the sun came up and he stumbled back.

"Bloody door," he muttered when his stuttering fingers found the familiar door and slipped between the crack to peel it open unsuccessfully. The tiny lock above the door jam was carefully slid in place and Draco eyed the short metal with wobbly eyes as he felt along his body for the thin shape of his wand. Pulling the stick from his trousers, he waved it in a disjointed circle and hiccuped, "Alohamora."

His hand jerked at the door handle once the light click of the lock told Draco his spell had worked and he pulled at the door as a void of darkness told his stumbling brain that William and Isla were still sleeping. He blinked rapidly but his eyes could not adjust quick enough as tried to lightly pull the door shut behind him, extinguishing a majority of the light from the room as an even snore reverberated across the dark space. The more sober part of his mind told Draco that he was going to run in to everything in his path to find the bedroom and fall into sleep's arms but he was not thinking fast enough to realize what he needed to do in order to prevent his incumbent noises.

"Muffliato," he slurred. And then, "Silencio," as his tired grey eyes peered into the vast shadows. A barely there sliver of light ran parallel to the wooden floor and somehow Draco knew it was coming from the bedroom he sought. His feet shuffled and he miraculously avoided any large collisions as the line of brightness came closer, tentatively placing a hand out to feel for the door before sliding his fingers down the wood to find the metal handle and effectively close around it's circular shape.

The hinges creaked as the rectangular entryway opened and Draco held himself surprisingly well as he waited at the threshold. Isla's hour glass figure and curly head were outlined by the crisp, white sheets and he dropped his head in shame as his last occurrences in this room, and the reason why he was still drunk, resurfaced. Her face was turned from him, effectively hidden in the crook of her elbow as her nose buried in the pillow, and Draco absently let a smile tug at one corner of his lips as the fleeting thought from his memories reminded him that she slept that way when she was upset or scared. A frown pulled down the slight smile and he grimaced at the notion and remembrance of his vague cruelty to her the night before. His hands itched to roam over the sinful curves of her beautiful body, caressing her flesh until all coherent thoughts were stricken from her mind. His lips begged to remind the witch that somewhere deep down he still loved her, he just needed to find himself before he could return her obviously passionate emotions.

As silently as he could, Draco slipped into the room and shakily pressed the door back into it's frame before he tiptoed along the two feet of space between the wall and the bed to brace himself against the rough stones as he stumbled through removing his clothing. His boots fell atop the random piling of clothes the magical pair had amassed and goose bumps rose across his underwear clad body as Draco turned in the short space to knock his calves against the frame of the bed. Glad that his silencing charms were still in place, he placed both hands on the mattress as his knees met the sheets and he gently moved up the bed until he was lying atop the covers on the empty left side facing Isla's back. Long legs kicked behind him several times until he picked up the edge of the sheets and he picked up the coverings to maneuver himself underneath as quietly as possible. The gentle rising and falling of his bed mate's back hypnotized Draco and a large hand separated the distance across the sheets to lay soundlessly next to her form, the tips of his fingers grazing her cotton nightgown as he quickly slipped into a tumultuous sleep, whisps of blonde curls just out of his reach as he chased a phantom woman through his dreams.

Turning over to stretch her stiff arms Isla immediately recognized the presence of another heavy body in the bed beside her and she hastily glanced to her right only to release a relieved gasp when she saw Draco's peaceful sleeping form. Her blue eyes traveled across the expanse of the bed, noticing his outstretched arm and her heart lurched painfully in her chest as tears threatened to spill over the brims of her eyelashes and visibly identify her sorrow.

A thick lock of flaxen hair angled across his wrinkled brow, his grey eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids as his full lips twitched with irritation. The veined marble of his pale skin glistened where sweat was forming and Isla kept her hands tucked beneath her pillow so as to not trace her fingertips over the tempting planes of his bare chest_. How did this happen?_ She thought_. How did we let it get this far?_

They were lying so close, yet the distance seemed insurmountable as Isla stared sadly at the sleeping Draco. She could faintly smell the alcohol on his person and her nose wrinkled, her mind whirling, at the prospect of how much he had drank and what else he had done to dispel his anger. A handful of memories replayed in her thoughts of Draco becoming belligerently drunk when they were out and then picking a fight with any wizard or Muggle who stepped in his path. Since there were no bruises or scratches anywhere to be seen, she assumed that he had merely drowned his sorrows in pint after pint of ale.

When the sight of his comatose, angelic face became too much, Isla pulled the covers off herself and crept down the bed as silently as possible. Knowing that he had probably just entered the realm of dreams she turned her back to the bed when her bare feet hit the cool wooden floors before padding to the far corner where she searched for a suitably warm dress to wear for the day. Deciding black was appropriately fitting for her mood, she pulled a thick, modest dress of ebony velvet from the pile and quickly pulled the cotton nightgown over the curves of her torso and the swelling of her breasts, tossing her blonde curls about as the fabric left her body. The black gown fit as perfectly as every other garment William had loaned her and Isla smoothed out the wrinkles across the slightly rounded pudge of her stomach, frowning at the feel of several pounds added to her frame and thinking passingly that she needed to spread her wings more often to get some exercise.

The thin wooden door opened with a slight creak and she winced at the noise, her neck rotating to glance at the bed and to make sure Draco was still sleeping. His light snoring had not paused and he clenched his fingers around the fabric of the sheets, grasping for someone who was not there, as his arm twitched and he mumbled incoherently. Isla's chest constricted, painfully aware that his unconscious mind and body were needing her despite his waking demeanors.

_I can't dwell on this now. Time is running out; we need to be ready to find the necklace and leave in two months. _

That thought in mind, Isla pushed her hips sideways through the crack of the open door, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she crossed over the threshold and pulled the door shut silently behind her. Exhaling with a slight sigh, she brushed her sweating palms down the front of her dress and turned to walk through the small office lounge and realized with a startle that William had been trying unsuccessfully to move through the outer door to escape to the open theater. His steps faltered when he saw that Isla had seen him and he hesitated with his hand on the door knob as she slowly walked to meet him.

"Good mornin'," he said politely when she stopped in front of his nervous form.

"Good morning," she replied but held her mouth open as if trying to find the right words to say. "I'm sorry about last night, William. Your advances were improper but I should have - reacted better."

Black eyelashes narrowed around his chocolate gaze as William's dark, scratchy beard jumped around his ticking jaw and he took a moment to peer accusingly at Isla in the darkened room before he nodded his dark curls slowly.

"I appreciate that," he said with timed rhythm. "I shall apologize this once but never more on my feelings upon this matter. I feel great sorrow for any undue hardship I have placed upon your relationship with your intended. I can understand now that you are truly in love with that despicable man and I will remove all attempts to win your heart and convince you otherwise. You are a brave and kind woman, Isla, and I do not hope you are choosing the wrong path but he will only cause your heart pain." At her incredulously raised eyebrows, he blushed and turned his gaze after his hasty words. Even a well versed playwright could become tongue tied when speaking on matters of love. "I apologize once more, you will only hear the sounds of my opinions when you ask for them."

"Oh William," Isla gushed, and although it didn't help his jittery nerves or his pledge to become a platonic friend, she wrapped her arms tightly around his torso and hugged the dark haired man who stiffened in the circle of her limbs. Her tangled curls scratched his bare neck and their even heights allowed her breath to pleasantly roll over the whispy spirals at the bottom of his hairline. "If only we had met under different circumstances..."

The open ended statement gave rise to his fluttering heart and William placed a warm hand against the curve of her back as he stroked the velvet dress awkwardly. He hoped by removing that little contact and leaning his weight backwards away from her pressing hug that Isla would understand his anxious stance and take her reaffirming arms away from his tense body. His uncomfortability did not reach her radar but Isla stepped back anyways as relief drew a small smile across her facial features, happiness apparent as she retained the most valuable friend she could have right now.

"Well - um - we should get out to the stage," William faltered after clearing his throat to kill the silence in the space between them.

Isla nodded eagerly, anticipating the fresh air and frivolity of the play's progression to clear her mind and ease the tension across her shoulders, but furrowed her brows and frowned slightly when he then asked cautiously, "Will Drake be joining us soon then?"

"Oh ... uh - I don't think so," she admitted. "He was pretty knackered when he came in from the pub -"

Even in the very dim lighting she could see the disapproving scowl that marred William's face. The play was set to open the night after next; surely the writer and director was not happy with a feature actor denouncing last minute rehearsals for a session of binge drinking.

"He has his lines memorized, he knows them all," Isla hurriedly added, her deploring tone weakening William's building temper as his shoulders relaxed slightly and he hmph'ed disagreeably.

"No matter. I can stand in for him today, they are my words after all," he responded arrogantly and Isla gritted her teeth at his obvious and repeated disapproval of Draco. William finally was able to finish turning the door knob and he opened the wooden entryway to walk outside. She was right behind him and for once was glad that she would not need someone to distract her from watching Draco recite his words poetically. They parted to go their separate ways but William tugged lightly at her arm just as she was walking up to the first step to the rows of seats, his dark head bent expectantly as he asked, "I do wish to speak to you more about the topic and idea for the Queen's play. Will you meet with me after we are finished Thursday night to discuss everything?"

Her mouth remained parted as her blonde head tilted to the side and she inhaled quickly, scrutinizing the possibility that his invitation was proposed as a friend rather than a man still looking to find a way inside her knickers.

"Yes, that will be fine," Isla cautiously responded, thankful that they would endure the first night of the play before they had to speak.

William nodded eagerly, his hand gripping the wooden banister as he smiled wide. "Excellent." The grin slapped across his features twinkled merrily in his brown eyes and Isla felt her shoulders tense at the intensity of his gaze, an adoring look that she had not seen directed towards her in many months. He turned easily, releasing the wooden beam as went, and loped off to brace his hands on the edge of the stage and vault himself over the ledge.

"Fantastic," she muttered and trudged down the empty aisle to plop down in her usual spot facing the center of the stage.

The actors were struggling through the Third Act, William stopping their lines every other phrase to add pointers from his intimate position within the troupe, when the door below the seats slammed against the stone wall and Draco strutted out into the foreground. He was wearing the navy blouse, blatantly smeared with their dried juices covering the back as Isla had mischievously done earlier, and a pair of brown trousers. Horribly mismatched but he did not seem to notice as he moved to the edge of the stage and loosely placed his hands on his hips in a somewhat dramatic gesture.

"Did ya start without me, Willy?" He called, his words slurring slightly as his blindingly still drunk movements swayed his body.

Isla was standing against the wooden railing, her small hands clutching the banister as she leaned over the edge to watch wordlessly.

The men on the stage looked at each other questioningly, their stares eventually turning to William as the dark haired man had the decency to blush at the wizard's brazen actions and he moved through the throng of gathered actors to shortly walk to the ledge where he towered over Draco.

Glancing side to side to make sure no one heard him, William harshly whispered, "I do not think you are in any state to get up on this stage today. You are still intoxicated. Go back inside and sleep it off."

Draco dropped his hands and guffawed, his bearded face stretched in nefarious anger as he began making loud noises of discontent.

"_You're _telling_ me _what to do now?" Draco called when William turned his back and began walking back to the curiously watching men. "That's it. I've had it with this charade we're playing here."

"Draco no!" Isla screamed across the relatively short distance as his slender hand fumbled within the band of his trousers to grope for his wand. His motions stilled and his blonde head popped up when she yelled and he rotated his neck to find the source of her voice. William strutted back to the edge of the stage and sneered at Draco as the blonde turned his attention back to the dark haired writer.

"Listen to the woman, she might be able to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours."

"Why I oughta-" Draco leered, his hand once more searching for the handle of his wand as he rushed forward in attack mode. In a second split thinner than time itself, William blinked and suddenly Isla was right next to Draco, her entire body wrapping around his staggering frame as she held his arms at his side and kept him from bolting forward anymore. Her closeness was not weakening his intent to fight so her grip must have been fairly strong as the blonde witch held tight with her chin resting on the corner of his left shoulder.

"Stop it, Draco," she soothed. "Calm down."

"Calm down?" He shouted, straining harder to remove the vice like grip her arms had around him. "This bloody wanker has been taunting me since we got here! And he can't keep his damn eyes off you! He deserves a good thrashing if you ask me!"

William crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows raised in humor as he watched gleefully as Isla successfully held Draco captive. The blonde man struggled relentlessly but his drunken body was tiring quickly and soon his exhausted muscles stopped, Isla's hands running up and down his stomach calmly to soothe his temper.

"Come on, Draco, let's go back to bed," she stated, both hands leaving their circle around his torso as she grabbed one set of fingers tightly and jerked him back towards her. William remained standing haughtily above them, smirking boldly as the wizard glared daggers at his proud chest. He watched as Draco allowed Isla to pull him away from the near public disaster, his chocolate eyes narrowing slightly at the ease with which she forgot the previous night's events and how she had cried herself to sleep. He would never tell her so but William had followed the pair into his office last night and he had leaned carefully against the door while they had argued inside the bedroom. He did not have to see them having sex to know that it had not been completely pleasurable for either. Shaking his head sadly for the woman who deserved so much better and for the man who was a dark enigma for all, William clapped his hands and turned back to the gossiping actors, ready to start from the beginning and begin fresh with a near perfect rehearsal.

It was only twelve hours later but Isla had a strange sense of deja-vu as she dragged Draco through the dark study lounge before hastily turning the door knob and throwing the bedroom door open. It was her turn to toss Draco into the room and he blankly stared at her as she rounded on him to begin kicking and screaming until she got her point across.

"What in bloody hell do you think you were doing out there?" She accused, breasts heaving distractingly. "I don't care how drunk you are, there is **NO** excuse for you to bring out your wand and curse a Muggle!"

"I don't exactly think he's a Muggle the way he's bewitched you!" Draco lamely retorted, his grey eyes bulging as he attempted to keep his angry mask in place when he leaned too far to the left and wobbled precariously until he almost gracefully landed on the edge of the mattress.

"Just go back to sleep, Draco, and we'll discuss your stupidity when you're sober," Isla sighed, her blue eyes rolling impatiently. Without waiting for his response she shook her head at him pitifully, hand turning the door knob as she turned sideways to slip through the opening door.

"How were you going to get the necklace?" Draco called as she was pulling the door shut, Isla paused and she glanced at his nervous face through the sliver of open door. "Before we left Scotland, what was your plan to get into the palace?"

She hesitantly pushed the door open again and barely stepped over the threshold before she stilled with her shoulder pressing against the wooden frame.

"I've been thinking about it all night," he continued, his strong fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on the seam of his trousers as his grey eyes steadily avoided looking up to see the emotion on her face. "How were you going to get there and back safely with the jewelry?"

"I was going to fly," Isla responded simply.

Draco jerked his head up and cocked his head questioningly until realization brought the spark of _ah ha!_ into his silver orbs.

"That's it?"

She shrugged shortly, meeting his gaze easily as she nonchalantly replied, "That's it. Still my plan too."

A wide yawn stretched his mouth wide and prevented Draco from asking another question that would surely be lost in his drunken memories. Isla let the corner of her lips turn up in a small smile and she nodded curtly when he reopened his mercury eyes and peered curiously at her still standing in the doorway as if she was really going to leave.

"Are you not going to lay with me?" Draco asked innocently and she was reminded of his innocuous behavior earlier when she had woken, his hand reaching out to her even in his sleep.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," she responded truthfully. He looked dismayed but nodded agreeably anyways. "Sleep well, my dragon," she said before stepping out of the bedroom and shutting the door with a soft click and another crack in her heart.

**.**

_A Midsummer Night's Dream_ opened on All Hallow's Eve to a full house. The last forty eight hours had been stressful for every person involved with the show, so much so that Draco and Isla saw little of each other besides when they were getting into or out of bed. She had volunteered to help the seamstress with last minute alterations, removing her solitary presence from rehearsals as the company of actors cracked down to perfect their lines and scenes before the big night.

When the first Act began, Isla was in her perfunctionary seat, waiting expectantly with the crowds of excited Londoners for the quieting ripple that preceded the beginning of the show. The flames surrounding the circular stadium seats were dimmed and the lights nearest the stage were lit aflame as the first scene opened and the people were silent as they watched in awe.

Each line he spoke, Isla mouthed with Draco, every phrase and wording perfect as Oberon ruled the forests, the Erkling in costume and attitude. When the very last scene was coming to an end, she sat on the sharp edge of her seat, waiting on bated breath for Draco to poetically finish his last bit of monologue.

"...Every fairy take his gait;  
>And each several chamber bless,<br>Through this palace, with sweet peace;  
>And the owner of it blest<br>Ever shall in safety rest.  
>Trip away; make no stay;<br>Meet me all by break of day."

He proffered his arm and Henry, decked to the nines as Titania in a fashionable fiery wig and sumptuous earthen gown, wove his hand through as the pair glided into the darkness of the stage, exiting silently as Theodore hoped about playfully reciting Puck's final lines and the last words to the show.

" ... So, good night unto you all.  
>Give me your hands, if we be friends,<br>And Robin shall restore amends."

Theodore dipped his head in a mock bow, praising the audience as he backed off the stage to a sudden uproarious applause.

Nearly a half hour later, once the overjoyed crowd had dispelled and the actors were able to leave the company of politicians, family, and various people claiming interviews, Isla stood waiting under the low hanging roof that ran along the railing of the second floor of seats inside the theater. She nervously awaited as Draco's blonde head weaved through the remaining persons in front of the stage, his grey gaze intent on her blonde head as he politely dodged questions and well wishers.

"What did you think?" He asked with a bright smile when he reached her leaning against a wooden pillar. "Maybe when we return home I could find work as an unpaid actor," he joked and they both laughed awkwardly, glancing away when the forced stare became too much.

"You were great," Isla conceded, her hands twisting as she nodded earnestly to reaffirm her point. "Bloody fantastic, actually."

His chest seemed to puff slightly and his blonde head and bearded chin tilted just a bit higher as a broad smile widened his lips and revealed the white tips of his teeth.

"Why thank you. Someone had to carry the show," Draco boasted playfully, his serious tone betrayed by his full grin at her praises.

They lapsed into a strained silence; Isla watching his now anxious face as Draco nervously bit at the inside of his lip. Wordlessly her left hand slid around her waist to flick behind her back and carefully she pulled her arm back around as she produced a single white rose, magic still glistening on the edges. His grey eyes shifted and widened at the flower, his gaze jumping to her blue orbs as Isla smiled tightly.

"For you," she said pushing the rose towards his moving hand. "I know it's usually a bouquet but - time restraints and all." She shrugged aimlessly and Draco pinched the stem between two fingers, mindful not to prick himself on a thorn. He stared at the open petals of the rose thoughtfully as Isla waited for anything, his response or a truthful gesture that would give her even a slight glimpse into what he was thinking.

"I'm sorry for the other night," he apologized quietly, her ears perking up and honey eyebrows raising slightly as she listened carefully to his words. "I cannot promise you much but I will try."

The rose was nearly crushed between their bodies as Isla pressed her curly head against his rapidly beating heart, her hands fisting in the lapels of his foresty costume as her blue eyes shut peacefully.

"I just want us to get out of this together, Draco," she mumbled against the extravagant fabric. "No matter what it takes, I'm not leaving here without you," she promised and the large hand that was not captured between their bodies gently pressed into the small of her back as he held her there.

"That's all we can hope for," he responded, sighing easily as Isla nodded against his chest, her errant curls brushing his chin as they stood peacefully, their bodies melded together like puzzle pieces. "We'll be just fine, love. We'll be just fine," Draco repeated and for the first time since he had woken up missing a majority of his memories and seemingly all his senses, the blonde wizard believed the affirmation as he held Isla tighter to his strong frame and glanced to the bright night sky, thanking his lucky stars that they truly were in this together.

**.**

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**A/N:**

**Thank you for reading! By the time this is posted the next chapter will be up and running (if not posted if you're a slacker reader) and will be that much closer to the final chapters. Not too much more to go, I'm anxious for the ending parts that have been long planned out in my bouncing brain. **

**So hold tight kiddies, another chapter is soon coming. But until then ... leave a review, won't you? **


	12. The Flight of Winter

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure. **

**A/N: As you will read, the royal palace in London for this story is set in Northern London. Since Buckingham Palace was not built until the 1800's (?), that is not the buildings I am aiming for you to picture when you read this. Think typical sprawling castle made of stones and rocks. The palace will again be mentioned later on in later chapters and I do not wish to confuse anyone while you are reading the remaining chapters. **_**Also, **_**any depictions or portrayals of British royalty or any likeness to any actual persons is fictional and created specifically for the purpose of this story. I do not claim to say that the real life persons written about here are accurately portrayed and do not wish to infer such to anyone. **

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**Chapter Twelve – The Flight of Winter**

The month of November passed without any major fights or incidents as _A Midsummer Night's Dream _finished its short production schedule. Draco and Isla started out tentatively, seeming to tip toe around each other until they realized their close quarters did not afford them the luxury of avoiding conversations and hiding stolen glances. William and Isla talked every day about the plot and wrote out random lines for the Queen's play, the blonde witch dropping less than subtle hints as the world's most romantic tragedy was born.

Near the middle of the month though, Isla grew ill. It started with a slow exhaustion that drained her energy every day. Draco began to worry and ordered her to spend more time resting instead of worrying over the play and their eventual mission. William agreed and Isla begrudgingly started taking longer and longer naps during the day when they were performing. She would wake up ravenous, demanding one of the men find her food before she died of starvation. Not long after she ate her fill though, she would have to rush to the bathroom to regurgitate the food. Isla was not able to keep anything in her stomach.

Draco fretted openly, pacing in front of their bed when she was sleeping to make sure she was alright. He grew more distressed by the day as he was unable to brew a potion or draft to cure her sickness. Her symptoms were all over the place as well, some days waking up with a blistering fever and the next morning shaking with the chills, and the blonde wizard could do little more than scratch his thick beard worriedly as the days turned into a week and the week into another.

Then miraculously, Isla woke up one day and trotted to the loo as if she had not been bed ridden for almost three weeks. She dressed casually and her entrance into the open theater shocked the entire group of men as she smiled happily, her cheeks glowing and curls wild. None of the actors failed to notice the extremely rounded curves of her figure in a tight fitting gown and Draco glared daggers at the men before jumping off the stage to hurry her back inside, anxious caution demanding her to wait out the day before she hurried into the elements.

December 1st arrived with a flurry of snow and both Isla and Draco were immensely grateful for William's continued hospitality and the treasure trove of costumes and clothing that accompanied the theater, the bitter winter weather defeated with various cloaks and thick coats. Their time was running short though and there was only 30 days left before they journeyed to the palace for New Year's Eve with William. Neither blonde was going to be acting in the play but the trio had come to an amicable agreement that Draco and Isla would be the playwright's dates for the evening as their romance was inspiring the baser points of the story.

Many of the actors from _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ agreed to join the cast for the hurried play for the holidays, despite it being more short notice than they were used to they were willing to put everything else on hold to venture to a royal gala. Once the first play had ended with the closing of November, the first week of the last month of the year was quiet around the theater as the men studied their lines and the opposing leads were rehearsed daily with the creative directors. William would hurry between the two groups, listening to monologues and altering the words or phrases as he was constantly shouting for someone to stop their horrid speaking.

"No! No!" He yelled at Charles who would be portraying the male lead. "You are Romeo! You are not some buffoon who is attempting to whoo the lovely Juliet," he motioned to the shorter Stephan who blushed slightly under his shaggy brown helmet of hair. "You are a love struck young man who does not see her family name and status but her beautiful face and loving personality! Say the line like you _mean_ it, speak as if you are staring into the wondrous gaze of a lover who will disappear if you lose sight of them. Now -" he said gesturing to the pair of actors, "Again."

Charles had nodded, irritated that his performance was being so directly critiqued while the remainder of actors watched, snickering behind their hands as they held their amusement in to keep William's wrath off of them.

With time running short and their responsibilities seeming to multiply, Isla knew she and Draco needed to have a long discussion concerning their plans of attack, contingency plans, and what was needed for the necklace to actually work and take them through time once more. The problem was finding time alone for them to speak openly without William nearby or other actors clamoring for help. The pale wizard had taken it upon himself to coach the actors on correct posture and poise, thus placing him on the stage from morning until night.

It was finally on a snow less Tuesday, a fortnight into December, that the blonde pair was allowed the opportunity to convene privately. It was after midday and William was in a furious uproar because certain extras had decided to skip the afternoon rehearsals once they had been released for a meal break. The dark haired man was furrowing a wide circle into the wooden stage as he paced, barking orders at the remaining men who had dared not ignore a practice in favor of rest.

Draco was standing on the edge of the group watching William bellow repeatedly when his peripheral vision caught on Isla's moving blonde head as she walked closely to the inside wall before slipping inside the office lounge with little distraction. His grey eyes warped and he saw her dressed casually in black trousers and a white blouse peeking over her shoulder before pulling open a black marble, seamless door and pushing herself through the slight opening. Another memory was fading out his real vision and he shook his shoulder length locks to rid the deja-vu dizziness, flipping his head to make sure the company of actors, and very irate director, were engrossed in discussion before he hurried off the stage and down the side stairs to sprint to the other side of the theater.

The quiet work space was as dark as ever but Draco could faintly make out Isla's outline through the shadows as she bent over the fireplace to throw several small logs onto the grate. She glanced over her shoulder at the opening of the door but turned back when she saw who it was, brief brightness extinguishing as she went back to her current task.

"_Ignitio,"_ she whispered, pointing the tip of her wand at the pile of wood as a small flame burst into existence between the top two logs. Draco had walked across the room to pull out a chair at the large wooden table that was situated in the corner across from the doorway, his ankles and arms crossing respectively as he watched Isla stand up and give him a brief glance. She removed the chair opposite him and sat down with a sighing plop, her blue eyes shutting slowly before opening to meet Draco's grey stare.

"You still look exhausted," he speculated softly, his silver orbs racing over the short wrinkles that had formed around her plump lips since she had been sick the previous month.

"I still _feel _exhausted," she responded honestly, feeling no need to hide the aches and pains of her body when he had been so willing to take care of her when she most needed it. "I just can't shake the feeling that I won't wake up one morning and need to vomit."

Draco nodded sympathetically, one slender hand unfolding from his chest to reach across the space to pat her forearm reassuringly.

"I know, love," he said. "But if we can just make it through the next three weeks, we'll be able to get you home and to St Mungo's to find out what is really wrong with you. Hopefully you did not pick up a medieval virus somewhere."

The tacked on phrase at the end gave her little reassurance and she faked a tight smile as she sarcastically stated, "Thanks, that makes me feel so much better - thinking that maybe I contracted an incurable disease that has already been eliminated in the 21st century. Now I can worry about that too."

Realizing that now was not the time to start a fight over something so trivial, Draco held back the biting words that threatened to slip off his tongue and instead gripped Isla's wrist, pulling her arm towards him so he could intertwine their fingers cautiously. The perfect fit of her small hands inside his broad palm sent an electrifying shiver through his nerves and Draco squeezed their hands together, magnifying the response as she stilled her fidgeting as she was moved forward in her wooden chair.

"Don't think like that," he said earnestly, his grey eyes narrowing in question as he sought to reaffirm her hope. "The only thing either of needs to be worrying about is retrieving the pendant of Ophelia when the time comes."

His words jolted her selfish thoughts and Isla jerked her free hand across her body to wave it at the closed doorway and the lock slid into place with a small click. She shrugged sheepishly when Draco's gaze became amused, his hand turning so his thumb could stroke the back of her hand innocently, his lips tight to hold in a genuine smile.

"What? We can never be too cautious," Isla stated simply, refusing to allow a blush to creep up her neck as Draco held his stare intently.

"Oh, I agree," he replied, his tone leaving room to argue whether he was concurring out of truth or amusement. "So how_ are_ we planning to get the necklace?"

Up until this point they had merely been waiting on time to pass before the turn of the New Year when they would be able to get into the palace. Now, time was running short and their spontaneous plan to wait until they were actually there at the ball seemed ludicrous when they considered the complexity of security that would be involved with protecting the Queen's jewels.

Isla wiggled her hand free of his grasp and stood abruptly to walk back and forth in front of the square table, Draco's grey eyes glued to her moving form as he held his words until she spoke first.

"I have been thinking about it and the only sure fire way that we will know where the necklace is and be able to get it without wasting time searching for it is if I fly there before the event to scope out the castle and determine where it is located."

"Absolutely not," Draco protested his grey eyes aflame with passionate disapproval. "I will not allow you to go alone."

"Then how do you suspect we will find the pendant without getting caught?"

He opened his mouth to argue further but nothing came out when he realized she was, partially, right and he had no reasonable answer.

"I don't want to do much," Isla admitted but Draco only pushed his honey eyebrows together to show his interest. "I haven't spread my wings since Scotland. But we have an advantage. The necklace will not have the electronic, you know - the power Muggles use?" She queried when he looked puzzled. "That's their form of security. Anyways electricity hasn't been invented yet, or maybe it has but not advanced enough for locks and safes. There will only be men guarding the jewels. I just want to take a quick flight up there to circle the castle and find the right rooms. Maybe get a peek at where the necklace is kept."

Draco's nose twitched in annoyance but he begrudgingly parted his lips to ask a somewhat dubious question.

"Why then, do you not just steal it then? When you take your _magical_ flight to the palace?"

Isla cocked one eyebrow incredulously as if the answer should be obvious.

"Because it might not be there? Because I want you to be with me in case something goes wrong when we actually do get it? Um - because it's too risky during daylight?" She rattled off a list of rhetorical questions and again Draco pressed his lips together to keep back his scathing remarks.

"What makes you so sure it will be there during the gala? You **said **it was her favorite accessory," he ground out angrily but still Isla grinned mischievously.

"Because," she pronounced slowly, stepping forward and bending at the waist so she was eye level with the blonde wizard. "Elizabeth I is notorious for wearing all red at her celebration of the New Year, it represents power for the turning of the calendars or some bullocks."

_Bloody witch has had this all figured out for weeks,_ Draco thought bitterly. _All that time she spent lying in bed was spent scheming._ He had to admire her drive and admittedly he had to smirk in pride of her resourcefulness.

"Well what are you waiting on then?" She blanked, surprised at his acceptance of her nonnegotiable flight that was happening with or without his consent. "Do you need me to help you get naked first so you can take off?"

A blush overcame her sparsely freckled cheeks and Isla ducked her head bashfully as if he had not seen her nude numerous times, plenty alone in the months since he had lost his memories and the past images of her bare curvy figure.

"Of course not, Draco," she admonished when the thumping of her heart slowed, her long eyelashes fluttering against her brow bone as she gazed at him with wide eyes. "I can't just fly out of the window though. William will get suspicious when he has not seen me out in the theater after a while. I'll have to walk out the front door so he can see me leave without question. Here, you're going to have to hold onto my wand until I get back," she said, handing him the warm oak wand that she pulled from the inside pocket of her heavy cloak.

Draco tucked the wooden stick into his breast pocket with his own wand and patted them fondly, Isla nodding once. She glanced about, readying herself to go and a wave of apprehension washed over him. The last time she had flown off into the open sky he had not seen for many days afterwards. Could he really just let her go in the hopes that she would return when she promised? His own once cold heart picked up its pace inside his chest and Draco inhaled quicker as she turned to walk to the door. His left hand shot forward to wrap tightly around her wrist and Isla paused to turn back, peering at him questioningly as his blonde eyelashes blinked rapidly.

He could not speak and chose to stand instead, straightening his body within inches of her as she glanced up at him anxiously. His lips parted to stutter nervously but she bit at the inside of her lip in anticipation and his restraint broke. He dropped her wrist, rapidly reaching up to grab either side of her face in his hands as Draco leaned forward just enough for his lips to press gently against Isla's surprised mouth. She was not quick to respond but he tilted his head and kissed her lips again before pulling back.

She looked stunned to say the least but quickly blinked to rid the shocked look from her face.

"Be safe," Draco whispered and she fought to feel her body motionless as a shock of shivers threatened to give away her needy desire when his warm breath swept across her skin.

"Hmm mmm," she affirmed weakly and forced her feet backwards until his touch was gone from her face and she felt her legs stiffen, knees straightening from the gooey mess they felt like when Draco touched her. Isla left him standing there as she turned and hurried to the door, wordlessly unlocking it before glancing back at his worried gaze as she passed through the bright opening to wander through the theater.

She shook her shoulders when the cooler winter air hit her face but Isla strode to the ledge of the stage purposefully, her sudden appearance catching William's attention as he walked to meet her at the edge of the performance arena, her gaze focused on the actors as they continued practicing a scene that would become very, very famous and very well quoted.

"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?" Charles posed, his sandy eyebrows rushing together then pushing away as he truly became his character, throwing his emotions into his face as he spoke.

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;  
>Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.<br>What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,  
>Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part<br>Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!  
>What's in a name? that which we call a rose<br>By any other name would smell as sweet;  
>So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,<br>Retain that dear perfection which he owes  
>Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,<br>And for that name which is no part of thee  
>Take all myself," Stephan responded, his words heart felt as the scene progressed.<p>

"I take thee at thy word:  
>Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;<br>Henceforth I never will be Romeo."

Isla turned her gaze from the actors, ears still listening intently to the words of the play as she smiled tightly at William.

"I'm going to the market," she lied. "Do you want anything particular?"

"No, we'll be fine, love," William responded but smiled at her thoughtfulness.

She nodded her curly head, passing relief causing a sigh to pull through her lips and she turned to leave, coyly tossing her golden hair over her shoulder as she threw back, "Parting is such sweet sorrow."

William grinned goofily at her pun, the words soon to be repeated as the scene rehearsed on stage. Her steps picked back up and Isla continued walking towards the main doorway out into the heart of London, waving over her shoulder widely when she pulled one side of the double doors shut behind her and the dull roar of city life surrounded her instantly.

Isla turned her head both ways, glancing up and down the wide, deserted side street, clutching the lapels of her cloak tighter to preserve the warmth that would soon be gone when she transformed. She hurried down the cobblestone street and ducked her head against the biting wind, keeping her eyes peeled for that usefully tight alley where she would be able to Change. Her feet moved to the left when the dark pathway appeared and Isla turned sideways to shuffle down the alley until she was standing in the middle of the empty way. Her arms dropped to her side and her hands clenched and unclenched as she closed her sapphire eyes to concentrate wholly on her Animagus.

She scrunched her eyebrows together and nodded her head, visual image of her avian form in her mind's eye, but nothing happened. Her blue eyes popped open and she looked down at her arms and legs, confused as to why she had not transformed. _Let's try this again,_ she thought and squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on letting her mind wander through her senses until the crisp image of amber eyes became a strong beak and a proud neck atop the body of a large golden hawk. She felt the heavy material of her gown fall to the cold ground and Isla glanced both ways to affirm that she was flapping her immense wings and not her human arms.

It really had been too long a time since she had retreated into her avian form and she felt the extra weight she had retained through her sickness weigh on her thin frame as the weak muscles of her wings beat harder to carry her supposed lighter body up into the sky. The winter wind was no more kind to her as a bird than as a woman and Isla **cawed** loudly, shaking her feathery head as she pushed against a cooler than the rest stream of air.

It took her several tries but soon enough she was soaring over the tops of the two stone buildings and into fresh air. The muscles in her wings, and therefore her arms, were truly weak and she was sure she would soon fall from the sky, the exertion pushing her lungs heavily as Isla spiraled further up to the clouds.

Once she was able to reach a comfortably low altitude she let the rushing stream carry her west, her golden wings spread wide as she floated through the currents of air. Amber hawk eyes were trained to the passing scenery, the stark black and white vision pinpointing the landmarks that would lead her in the right direction. Soon enough she was tilting her feathery body to the right to turn north to reach the palace.

Within minutes the whispy clouds parted to reveal a magnificent stone castle, sprawling across many acres and triumphantly flying the flag of the royal house of Tudor. Isla **cawed** at the perfect sight and dipped her beaked head to descend as she traveled closer.

Guards were easily seen atop the open walkways that surrounded the castle and men were proudly stationed on the outside perimeter, watching vigilantly in their blazing white uniforms. She flew within a hundred meters of the walls, high above in the sky, and the men tilted their heads back to look up at the beautiful hawk that circled.

Knowing that Queen Elizabeth resided in one of the four towers, Isla swooped lower still, rounding on the first stone pillar as her eyes stayed focused on the open windows trying to look inside at the passing rooms. The separate spaces were empty but judging by the pilings of silver armor and weapons, she did not guess that was the right tower.

She let the wind carry her around the large castle until the second tower came into sight and she dipped low to circle the rounded stone mass, watching the contents of each room until she spiraled around to the top and saw nothing of interest. _Surely men will be posted at the Queen's tower for protection,_ Isla thought hopefully and bent her feathery neck to turn south towards the third tower. As luck would have it, half a dozen men in shining white uniforms were standing at the courtyard doors for the west tower, three more on top of the roof vigilantly watching her progression.

_This must be the one,_ she eagerly thought and dove sharply before pulling up as the tips of her wing brushed the side of the stone tower.

The room on the first landing appeared to be servants quarters, earning a loud squawk from Isla as she turned her head up to round the second floor. This was surely the right one. The bedroom was sumptuously decorated with two large windows on opposing sides of the rounded room, half of the space crowded with piles of elaborate gowns and undergarments and a large canopied pushed against the remaining wall. Isla boldly landed on the sill of the southern window, resting her expansive wings against her avian body as her head cocked to the side and she peered into the Queen's bedchambers.

As suspected by the lack of persons in the other towers, this room was devoid of life. She was cautious to make sure there really was no one in there before she waddled to the inner ledge and hopped off, landing quietly on the uneven wooden boards. Her talons scratched against the floors as she hobbled around, amber eyes narrowed and searching for any glint of jewelry.

_I guess the Queen is not stupid enough to leave her valuables lying around her own bedroom_, she thought morosely, spreading her wings as she jumped up gracefully to the ledge of the northern window. Isla turned back and hopped through the open window, her wings grazing the rough edges of the exterior as she flew straight up, intending to lazily circle the entire castle to get her mind straight as to where she should look next.

The open window of the third and final floor of the Queen's tower caught her eye and Isla halted the beating of her golden wings fluidly as she paused in front of the identical room. But instead of clothing and bedding, this room had glass cases and tables of rows upon rows of extravagant jewels. Her beaked head perked up eagerly at the sight but she noticed through the small barred window of the doorway to the stairs that a uniformed guard was positioned at the entrance to the expensive room.

_Only one man to beat. Surely the necklace will be somewhere in this room. _

With the opportunity lying open before her eyes, Isla dipped her head and prepared to fly forward into the room when a metal tipped arrow shot past the tip of her right wing. Her feathered head jerked up and she was terrified to see the three guards posted atop the tower leering over the edge, the middle man expertly hoisting a bow and arrow that he was precisely reloading with an evil sneer turning up his lips.

"Watch this, men," Isla heard him call arrogantly to the other two Muggles. "I'll shoot us this beautiful hawk in one arrow."

Stupidly she was flying in place, staring at the men as if they were not aiming to kill her for sport. The archer in the middle held the bow in front of him, pulled the tight string back and closed one eye as the steadied arrow released from its taut position and whirled through the air directly at Isla. She screeched loudly and swerved to avoid the winking metal tip but she was a moment too late and the lightning fast arrow tore through the feathers and skin of her right wing with an anguishing cry.

"Ah ha!" One guard called merrily, slapping the back of the other two men as they watched her struggle to maintain flight, the air pulled from her lungs as she fought the immense pain that was seeping from the wound as thickly as the dark blood.

"I have not hit my mark," the archer disappointingly responded and reached blindly behind his back to retrieve another arrow to load the bow. "One more, men."

Isla jerked at his loud words and knew she could not give him the seconds he needed to complete his attack. Her wing was growing numb with the pain and it was already beginning to drag her down but she had to prevail if she wanted to make it out of here alive. The crisp snap of the drawing bow perked her senses once more and without a breaths hesitation, she flapped her large wingspan painfully and turned to dart off into the nearby forests. Her wings beat faster and a rush of adrenaline pumped when she distinctly heard the pop of the arrow releasing from its position. Within seconds the arrow was thankfully whizzing distantly to her left and Isla heard the groans of defeat of the trio of guards as the metal tip lodged into the grassy earth of the courtyard below.

Agonizing pain shot through her right arm and Isla feared she would Change mid-flight if the blood loss and injury progressed further. She needed to land and heal her wounds but it was not safe as long as she was this close to the palace and vulnerable. The theater was not too far off but by the lurching in her wing, she did not think she would make it there without falling into unconsciousness halfway there. With no other option Isla spiraled low until she fell through the canopy of tree tops, her body smacking against the branches with resounding snaps until she fell to the snowy dirt floor, naked into her transformed human body.

She shivered into the cold and the snow turned scarlet under the gaping wound on her right bicep. There was a clean wound all the way through her skin and Isla clutched her arm to her body as wails of blood curdling screams tore through the woods and tears soaked the snow beneath her blonde head. She staggered to a standing position, sniffling loudly as her bare feet paced in the snow and her shivering limbs shook in the winter's coldness.

_I can do this,_ she thought shakily. _I've Apparated under worse conditions. _

Bravely tilting her head forward, Isla squeezed her blue eyes tight and rushed through the thought progression that would lead her to Apparate. She resolutely pictured the enlarged, warm bed in William's bedroom and with all her magic strained on that particular thought, she felt the relieving pull through of stomach as she wandlessly Apparated through London.

Draco had been pacing in front of the fireplace since Isla had left. His steps were surely imprinted in the carpet as he walked back and forth, turning at the same spots as he stayed in front of the warmth. His hands were clasped behind his back, his shaggy blonde head bent in thought when there was a loud crash in the bedroom. One hand immediately reached for his wand and he hurried to turn the doorknob and rush inside the room, fight mode enabling him to prepare for an unknown invader.

The sight that met him was quite the opposite and Draco forcefully jammed his wand back into his trousers. As he ran to the bed, his grey eyes locked on Isla's shivering, naked form in the middle of the mattress as crimson blood seeped into the white sheets.

"Isla! What happened?" He questioned but all she could manage was to turn her head over her shoulder and whimper painfully as her legs tucked against her chest, her wounded arm thrown over her curled up body. His grey eyes moved to the bloody injury, his knees pressing into the mattress as he crawled across the bed to kneel beside her groaning form. "Love, what happened? Who did this to you?"

Isla could not speak but turned over onto her back and winced, another groan escaping her lips as she jerked her arm unintentionally. Draco was on the verge of panicking hysterically, not aloud of course, he was still a Malfoy, and his shaking hands pulled both their wands out as he jerked his hand over her body.

"Heal it, Draco," she whimpered, the words barely audible through her cries of pain. "Please! Hurry!"

"I - I can't!" He hesitated, grey eyes wide in fear as he stumbled through vapid excuses. "What about William! What will we tell him! This is - this is - I can't -" he muttered and Isla felt the satisfying rush of adrenaline as she attempted to sit up, glaring at Draco when he pushed his hands forward to help her.

"I don't care about William! Do you want me to **die **right here?" She fiercely questioned and he shook his blonde head rapidly.

"No! No - that's not what I meant!" He interjected.

"Then heal me! I can't do it myself!" Isla barked and what little energy she had left was zapped as she toppled sideways against the short stack of pillows, blood spraying across the clean linens as she fell.

Draco jumped forward and slipped an arm under her back, catching her smoothly before she fell completely. He cradled her against his chest and stared pitifully at her wound as her eyelids fluttered over her blue eyes and she passed out.

"Oh bullocks," he cursed gruffly. "Come on love, don't quit on me now."

His free hand produced his hand and pausing to reiterate the correct spells to himself, Draco flattened his hand and let it hover over the clear through injury, his tongue silently moving to repeat the healing charms and spells needed to repair her arm as best as he could. Within several long minutes he was able to repair the damage to her muscles, ligaments, and nerves, seal the wound and to stop the blood. Due to their less than ideal circumstances, Draco was unable to procure the needed salves and potions that would be able to replenish her blood, heal the flesh wound faster, and restore her energy levels. For now it was the best he was afforded and Draco hugged the now sleeping Isla closer to his chest as one finger lightly traced the smaller wound.

"What am I going to do with you, love?" He asked to the silent room, exhaling in a sigh of relief as the sudden conflict was resolved for now. Tossing their combined wands to the edge of the bed, Draco scooted on his knees until Isla was lying peacefully on the far side of the bed, ripping off the sleeve of his black shirt to tear it into strips before cautiously tying them around her injured bicep. The blonde witch stirred in her sleep but did not wake and he gently knotted the fabric, bending his head to place a light kiss atop the small bow.

When he slowly crept off the bed to retrieve a nightgown for his lady and to remove his own clothing, Draco frowned at the large quantity of blood smeared across the white sheets. It would not do to have gotten through this whole ordeal only to have William walk in and see the bed bloody and the room a mess. He reached once more for his wand and quickly muttered _Scourgify _as the fresh blood stains disappeared.

Within minutes he had successfully maneuvered Isla's immobile body to dress her in a thick nightgown and was crawling up the bed to pull her curvy figure against his bare chest, cautious of her arm as he held her around the waist. The covers were pulled up tightly against their chins and Draco sighed tiredly into the curly strands of hair lying across her pale neck as his grey eyes slid shut and he fell into a dreamless sleep, exhausted from the adventures they had already endured and hesitantly excited for what still lay ahead of them.

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**A/N:**

**Thank you for reading! This chapter came to fruition in less than 24 hours after the previous chapter was finished and you guys have yourselves to thank for my speedy writing. That's what reviews and feedback will get you :) **

**So show some love and leave me your critique or praise. I love to hear it either way. And don't forget you can keep up with details and extras for the story by adding me on Facebook under 'Samantha LuckyTh13rteen Jane.' My profile is chalked full of bonus material and up to the minute updates on the upcoming chapters and other stories as well. Send me a message with "FF" and your penname when you friend me. **


	13. You Say One Thing  Do Another

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure. **

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**Chapter Thirteen – You Say One Thing – Do Another**

Whenever you needed time to move slowly, it seemed to do just the opposite. This instance though, time did not move quickly because of imagined hands turning the clock forward but because Isla was in and out of consciousness for several days after she had returned, injured and bloody from her flight around London. Those few days actually seemed to drag by for Draco as he watched her sleep.

The lie he fed William was that she was sick once more, confined to sleeping and resting. It was partially true but not because she was running to the loo every time she woke up. The handful of hours she was awake during those days, Draco was waiting patiently at the bedside when her blue eyes fluttered open. Physically she was fine. His healing spells had worked their magic and the straight shot hole through her arm from the arrow was completely regrown, matching puncture wounds on either side of her bicep with large scabbing scars.

"Draco, what happened?" She asked wearily the first day she awoke, groggy and straining to turn her neck to look at him across the bed.

"Everything's fine, love," he assured her, stepping to stand close to the mattress so she could feel his presence but not wanting to touch her in fear of furthering her pain. "Go back to sleep, you're still tired from the injury."

Isla nodded briefly, wincing as the small movement jerked her shoulder and twitched her arm. Her curly head turned over on the pillow and within minutes she was fast asleep as Draco exhaled with a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his thin nose between two calloused fingers and rubbing gently as the corners of his grey eyes drooped sadly before closing tiredly.

The next evening when she was startled from slumber the small bedroom was empty. She tipped her head forward slightly to glance about but the scant moonlight through the window only revealed empty, shadowed corners. There was a small loaf of bread on the far edge of the mattress and she could see the dark outline of a metal pint sitting on the chair wedged in between the wall, presumably filled with water and not alcohol. Her muscles ached in protest after unuse but Isla pushed her elbows across the white sheets until she was awkwardly lying on her stomach with her face and hands right in front of the bread. Her stomach growled in hunger but she could barely force herself to peel off a rock shaped piece and shove it in her mouth, chewing slowly as if the muscles of her throat and jaw were unfamiliar with eating food.

Pushing the bread away she crawled back up the bed until her curly head found purchase with the comfortable pillow that had seen plenty of use of late. Her straight nose snuggled into the cotton fabric and she inhaled deeply the scent of her own dried saliva and the bland soap she used to bathe and wash laundry with. Draco's absence pulled at her beaten heart but as her sapphire eyes shut to keep out the imaginative thoughts as to where else he could be, sleep and dreams snagged her drifting mind and she fell back into a restful slumber.

It must have been the next morning when she woke because the cautious movement and shifting of weight alerted her that Draco was getting out of bed. She sleepily turned over, blinking and rubbing at her tired eyes, and he looked shameful that he had woken her.

"Go back to sleep, love," he whispered and hurriedly turned to shuffle through his clothes before pulling on a wrinkled shirt and clean trousers, fitting his arms into a wool coat as he glanced back at her on the bed.

"Draco, how long have I been ... out?" She asked cautiously, his grey gaze flickering across her face evenly as he waited to give a response.

"Three days," he finally said, his heart skipping a beat when she smiled briefly at the notion that she had not missed a significant amount of time.

"How are things going? Is William driving you mad yet?" She asked tiredly, one hand fisting as she rubbed her eyes to ride the sleep bogies.

A dry smirk flashed across Draco's features. "He's grown on me," he admitted sheepishly. "He and I are scheduled to travel to the palace in two days' time to meet with the event coordinator, scene setup and stage space and all."

"That's wonderful!" Isla threw her shoulders forward and was granted a wave of dizziness as she sat up too quickly. She shook her golden curls lightly, scooting down the bed until her bare feet hit the wooden floor and she placed her hands on her knees to steady her breathing. Glancing back up at him she said, "You'll be able to figure out a route for us to get to the Queen's tower the night of the party. It will be - sigh - simple for you to find the quickest path but we will have to be weary of guards."

Draco stilled his roving eyebrows, face turning blank as inside, his emotions were churning as he held back the viciously cold fury that littered his family name. He could not help but turn to anger when all she seemed to be concerned about was this damn necklace; it had nearly killed her, or well, seriously injured her, and she was still prattling on about the damned pendant. Every single second they had spent together, that he could remember anyways, had been spent planning and rehashing what needed to ultimately happen. He knew that was what she had spent hours thinking about when she had sat dazedly watching rehearsals and shows. How could she not? He was half the man she loved and admired and there was nothing short of reliving the accident that could even possibly bring his memories back faster.

When Isla shifted her weight forward and moved to stand, he unthinkingly stepped to her side should she need his assistance. Sure enough her knees wobbled, her hands jutting in front of her to shakily balance her unsteady legs and a large hand hovered over the rounding of her hip, not barely touching. He cleared his face when she glanced at him, slightly embarrassed at the clumsiness of her limbs. Isla smiled awkwardly but took baby steps forward as her toes curled against the cold floor.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked when she reached for the handle of the door.

"To the loo," she replied, glancing over her shoulder with raised eyebrows. "Do you want to hold my hand while I _tinkle?"_ Her voice squeaked, her tone mocking as he merely raised an ashen eyebrow in return.

"Don't be absurd," he drawled and sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching for a pair of boots before grabbing white knee high socks. He looked up when she had not left, shaking his blonde head in irritation as he added, "Are you going or not? I don't have all day to wait around on you."

Isla's face brightened and she turned further to look at him fully as she asked, "Are we going somewhere?"

"No."

"Draco - I'm not staying in here all day! I don't want to sleep anymore!" She whined, jerking her shoulders spastically in a way that he knew meant she was going to throw an irrational tantrum.

"Love, just go to the loo and we'll talk when you come back," he placated, his voice flat as he turned his attention to his feet and ignored her incredulous silence until she finally threw open the door and walked out to find the bathroom, the rectangular wood slamming back into its frame loudly. Several minutes passed and Draco was leaning back with his elbows pressed into the mattress, his grey eyes narrowed as he peered at the pile of unkempt clothing and was very tempted to sort and fold it all. When the door creaked open, Isla's golden head walked through dipped low, her blue eyes fixed on the ground and watching where she was walking, a concentrated look on her face as she fought to hold her head straight and not let it sway with the rhythm of her dizziness.

Her waist bent when she got close enough to the bed and one hand tentatively patted the mattress as she sat down slowly. Her head was still rushing and Draco watched curiously, his eyes catching on the sleeve of her right arm where the bandage had weakened and spilled drops of blood on her nightgown. Isla had obviously not noticed or else she would have been freaking out so he turned from his position and reached for his torn shirt that he had been using for strips of cloth to cover her wound. The loud shredding of a long piece of fabric drew her attention and she moved her blue eyed gaze to peer intently as he tossed the shirt back to the top of the pile.

"Give me your arm," he instructed calmly, his hands open across his lap as he waited for her to comply. She still hadn't realized what he was doing but yawning widely, she pushed her right shoulder forward and lamely flicked her wrist in his general direction.

Draco hmph'ed, grabbing her hand lightly to jerk her arm towards him as his fingers grasped at the frilly edge of her nightgown and pulled it off her bare shoulder.

"What are you -" she started but he gently inched the collar past the bloodied wrappings and she stopped, finally understanding what he was intending to do as her lids drooped heavily and she yawned once more.

"Just sit still," he quietly ordered and Isla nodded tiredly as a somewhat unexpected wave of exhaustion rushed over her body.

"I'm not going anywhere," she admitted half-heartedly, shrugging her upper arm further into his grasp as Draco slid the tips of his fingers between the cloth and her skin and softly pulled until the fabric was loose. He slowly unwound the bandage until the short amount of seeping blood from her injury came into sight and Isla blanched at the sight of her own wound. Her limbs stiffened and he glanced up quickly, smirking at her squeamishness when he vaguely knew she had encountered more severe injuries in the past.

It only took several more long, awkwardly silent moments until the blonde wizard was deftly tucking the loose end of the clean bandage underneath the looped fabric, securely it tightly before releasing her tight grasp that had somehow secured around his wrist while he was wrapping the cloth. Isla peered distractedly at the white cotton material, clutching the frilly collar of her nightgown with the other hand to pull it back up onto the curve of her shoulder. Draco dropped his open palms into his lap and drew his silver gaze off her to rotate his head to stare pointedly at the seam of the corner walls. She pushed backwards on the bed until the backs of her knees were bent over the edge and her bare feet were halfway in the air. He abruptly stood and walked to the crack of the open door.

"You're tired, love," he said with the smallest trace of emotion, his bearded chin brushing the shoulder of his coat as he looked back at her, yawning once more as she begrudgingly nodded her head. When her hand moved from covering her gaping mouth, Isla frowned before turning onto the side of her rounded hip to crawl back up under the sheets and blankets.

Draco left without another word, shutting the door behind him and pausing against the closed surface as he inhaled sharply, lightly shaking his lean body before straightening his stance. He tossed his head back to throw whisps of his long blonde locks off his neck and took a large step forward towards the theater and the massing group of actors. It was normal now for him to get flashes of memories, closely resembling a **very **strong sense of deja-vu except with real accompanying images. Just now he had pictured his hands doing the exact same motions, her arms further cut and her face bruised. Similar reoccurrences had been happening for almost six weeks now and Draco had no control over the damned thoughts. He could not tell Isla because the unbidden images had only started once things had started going well for them and he did not want to divert their attention from the impending holidays.

Shrugging further into his coat, he opened the door to the outside theater, a small swirl of snow flurries and bitter cold slipping through the crack as he slipped out. Draco shoved his slight hands into the pockets of the jacket and ducked his blonde head as he walked around the side of the stage and darted up the wooden stairs, his ears listening to William's words through the biting wind. His mind drifted off as he stood on the edge of the circle of actors, his grey eyes watching the theatrical hand motions of the playwright as he hugged his arms across his chest to stay somewhat warm.

They had been gone for so long now that he forgot what it felt like to sleep in his own bed, to take a steaming hot shower without worrying that you would have to shiver through the end of your bathing. Overall, Draco missed the general use of magic. With Isla under the weather and now injured, he had been afforded the opportunities to release some of his pent up abilities but he still felt the tightening coil of his powers within his chest. It felt as if a fist was slowly squeezing his lungs tighter every day and the only way to loosen the grasp was to wave his wand or flick his wrist to do a simple spell. Urges were threatening him though and he hoped beyond all else that he would have a spare moment at the castle to wander off by himself. Soon enough they would be gone but until then Draco needed alone time to figure out his thoughts, emotions, and what the hell he was going to do when they finally left.

Isla slept for almost twenty-four hours. Draco crept in late that night to undress and slip into bed and was just as quiet the next morning when he woke and exited the bedroom. Around lunch time she woke up to the strong aroma of a hearty meal and opened her blue eyes sleepily as she lifted her greasy curls off the pillow to glance slowly about the room. Draco was bent over the spare chair against the bed, his large, pale hands arranging a bowl of steaming soup, a tall glass of icy water, and a napkin and spoon. Her right hand fumbled over the edge of the blankets and she pushed it into the air as her back arched and she stretched languidly, the mattress squeaking under her movements and drawing his attention as his silver eyes peered over his shoulder at her alertness.

"Afternoon," he greeted politely, turning back to face her with a bored stare. "I knew you would be hungry so I had one of the stage hands run and fetch some stew."

"Thank you, that was very - considerate of you."

Draco tilted his blonde head and nodded slightly, blinking once as if to say that it was nothing. "You might want to shower once you finish eating though, love. Some of the men are asking about a stench coming from William's office," he joked modestly, the tip of one lip turning up as Isla scrunched her mouth and nose, laughing falsely.

"Very funny. Isn't there somewhere else you can go and be arse?" She growled, grouchiness settling in to explain the expression waking up on the wrong side of the bed.

"Fine," Draco grumbled. Turning and walking to the door as he muttered under his breath, "You try to do something nice and no one appreciates it. Fucking bullocks."

There should have been a trace of guilt at Draco's truthful words but Isla was still shrugging off the clutches of sleep and did not indulge her broken heart as she crawled out from under the thick blankets to huddle on the corner of the magically heated bed, a thinning arm reaching out to grasp at the side of the hot bowl. Bot hands held the container as she stilled it in front of her face, one hand grabbing the large spoon and dipping into the thick stew. The steaming broth slid down her throat, burning her tongue, and pleasantly warmed her stomach as the spoon moved faster to travel from the bowl to her mouth until the entire serving was gone.

Replacing the bowl on the wooden chair, her hands reached for the glass of water and she gulped down the cool liquid quickly, putting the empty cup on the chair as well. Stomach full and body almost fully awake, Isla decided it couldn't hurt to take a trip to the loo to shower and clean herself up. Their combined 'closet' of piling clothes was searched until she found a suitable dress and slung it over her shoulder lazily as her naked toes curled against the cold floor and she hastened to get the bedroom door open, walking into the chilly office lounge and passing the fireplace as she approached the small hidden door in the opposite corner that contained the bathroom.

The small lavatory held only a good sized metal tub, a large mirror on the wall facing the entrance, a spigot and pale for drawing water, and a thin door that led to the outhouse which was really just a bucket in a hole in the ground. Isla shut the door behind her and tossed her dress onto the floor as she pulled the hem over her nightgown over her head to stand naked. Her left hand fidgeted with removing the bandage around her right bicep while the other hand twisted the knob of the spigot and watched as a stream of ice cold water rushed into the metal pale, sloshing wildly and spraying her bare calves with a mist of frozen water droplets. She flicked her wrist at the bucket and it levitated until it was over the tub and then tipped itself over to pour the liquid into the large tub. Isla repeated this chain of motions until the bath was three quarters full, letting the smaller pale fall to the ground as her wrist flicked to boil the water until small bubbles formed along the bottom of the tub and steam was gently rising off the top of the surface.

Her hands gripped the thin metal sides of the tub and her toes were taut and pointed as she tested the waters cautiously, submerging her entire leg to mid thigh and then the other before turning properly and lowering her curvy hips into the hot waters. A guttural groan escaped Isla's lips as her shoulders fell below the water line and she dipped her curly head into the bath as her hair wet and the steaming liquid soothed her aching muscles, her healing wound burning when the water touched the open sore.

She let herself lay back for several long moments but decided it best if she was finished bathing and washing before the water turned too cold. Short fingers worked through the tangled curls that felt weighed down with oils and sweat. The liquid soap was all she had but was still effective in cleaning her blonde hair of all nastiness as well as scrubbing the dirt and grime from her freckled skin. When she was finished, Isla stepped out gingerly, glancing back at the gallons of water and wondering what she was going to do with it. _I'll leave it for now,_ she thought. _Maybe someone else will want to bathe later._

Isla spread her feet and dipped her head forward, spreading her arms as she shook lightly to dispel any large water drops. Next she waved her wrist and her skin was slightly warm from a drying spell, her curls bouncing as they sprung up with sudden dryness. The long sleeved amber gown was lying in wait on the floor and she twitched her fingers to lazily levitate it towards her until she grasped the thick dress and turned it upside down to pull it over her head.

She fully intended to walk outside and join Draco, William, and the cast of actors but as she searched around the bedroom and then the office, she could not find any of her cloaks. Irritated and annoyed, she was resigned to pout on the couch in front of the fireplace, tucking her slippered feet underneath her bum as she stared dismally into the licking flames. The lively fire was entrancing and before long her eyelids were heavy and drooped down to shut tiredly as Isla's curly head tilted back to lean against the edge of the sofa and she was once more asleep.

Draco did not wake her that evening when he came in but draped a thick blanket over her, tucking the corners into the cushions of the couch and flicking his wand discreetly at the fireplace to stay alive through the entire night to keep her warm. He did not want to appear wholly selfish but he and William were leaving the next day for the palace and he felt he deserved a full night's sleep without her distracting kicking before he traveled to the royal castle to meet with the Queen's people. His bare chest sagged and he expelled little effort into pulling the sheets back before his blonde head hit the pillow and his steady breathing carried him off to dreams of castles and fair maidens.

Isla was startled awake by the rattling and ramblings of Draco as he nervously dressed in the bedroom. Her feet fell off the end of the couch and she jumped when the stiff muscles of her back groaned at the rapid movements. She stood and ambled across the room, wearily knocking on the door before opening it without a response first.

Draco was shuffling around, his shirt open and unbuttoned and his pressed trousers unpinned as he paused, glaring anxiously at Isla when she yawned and poked her head around the corner of the door frame.

"Can I help you with something?" He snapped.

She merely raised a golden eyebrow and asked in return, "Where are you going? What's happening today?"

Draco grunted exasperatedly, his grey eyes rolling as if the answer should be obvious.

"William and I are going to meet with the Queen's event coordinator?..."

"Oh right!" Recognition lit up her face and the corners of her lips turned up in an excited grin. "Do you think there's room for one more? I mean, I practically wrote the script with William."

Nimble fingers rapidly buttoning his shirt before tucking the loose ends into the top of his trousers and buttoning those as well, Draco blankly stared at Isla. One hand reached for his finest coat and one hand braced in front of his body as he turned sideways to walk past the bed and brushing against her teasingly as he passed through the door. She did not think he would agree to let her go, and she was still somewhat tired albeit with some energy, but it never hurt to ask.

"I've already told you no," he said as he walked away leaving her to turn and trail after him as he paused in the doorway out to the theater. "In all honesty _you_ were invited but we did not think you would be well in time to go. So I accepted in your place. Do not worry, we shall be back soon."

Isla frowned in the dim lighting of the lounge but gently placed a small hand against his closely shaven beard and ran her thumb across his cheek. "Be safe. Don't do anything stupid."

Draco smirked and rubbed his bearded jaw into her touch. She faintly smiled but inched her gaze off his mercury eyes to stare at his free falling, shoulder length locks. She removed her hand and glanced down to untie a leather strap from around her wrist and he looked down at what ever could have distracted her attention. Holding the thin piece of leather across the palm of her hand she nervously turned her head up to meet his gaze before hurriedly moving to stand behind him. She reached up and gathered his hair quickly and he jerked under the random action.

"You should pull your hair back," she stated cautiously, one hand holding the small ponytail while the other finagled the leather strap to wrap around the hair. "Draco Malfoy must look accurately presentable when meeting the Queen."

He smirked to himself but nodded slightly to convey his gratitude for her gesture. Her hands dropped to her sides when she was finished and Draco turned to look at her fully. Isla could not meet his gaze and stared at the end of his honey eyebrow instead. He sensed her reluctance but leaned forward anyways and dipped his head to place a chaste kiss on her pouting lips. Her blue eyes widened at the last second and her neck rotated, his mouth landing on the soft skin of her flushed cheek.

"I best be going then. William will be waiting on me," Draco said when he pulled back. Isla was frozen and did not react but pressed herself backwards against the stone wall, her eyes downcast as he hastily brushed past her and opened the door, bright sunshine falling across her face with a bitter wind as he exited the warm chambers. His hand paused on the handle when the door was almost shut and through the thin sliver of opening, Isla looked up in anticipation as Draco waited for her eyes to meet his. "Christmas is in a few days. Is there anything in particular you would like?"

Isla blanched, her sapphire eyes going wide as she suddenly remembered that there was more than one holiday in the 'holiday season.'

"I - uh - I... No, nothing," she stuttered. "What about you? Anything you want?"

"Just you, love. Just you," Draco replied with a sudden, devilish smirk, his silver eyes glimmering as Isla blushed and looked away. He pulled the door shut the rest of the way and turned to walk across the theater to the main entrance where he knew William would be outside, impatiently waiting in a carrage for him. Sure enough an opulently wooden, horse drawn carriage sat just in front of the double doors, the animals neighing softly as their puffs of breath snorted every few seconds.

Draco barely had the small latch on the door turned when William bellowed from inside, "It's aboot time! We were going to leave your arse here. Hurry up, we haven't got all day," irritating the blonde wizard further as the sharp tip of his wand poked into the bare flesh of his side, reminding him what he could do and what he could **not **do. He hoisted himself through the small opening and threw the dark haired, very nervous playwright a tight smile of apology as he sat down with the rough take-off of the carriage.

The journey was short but William prattled on the entire time, his mouth running to calm his anxiety as his breathing increased when the wheels of the vehicle passed from the tumultuous cobblestones of the city streets onto the even stones leading up to the castle. They were stopped abruptly and as Draco was jolted from his seat, he braced his hand on the leather next to William and acted as if he was leaning forward to look out the window. All he could see were large hedges and manicured lawns on either side. Muffled speaking was coming from the front of the carriage and he suspected that their chauffeur was conversing with a guard at the entrance to the royal palace. William nervously glanced out the windows on both sides, scooting back and forth across his bench seat as he anxiously awaited the final stopping of the carriage in front of the entrance to the stone castle.

Gravel crunched under the wooden wheels and as they turned around a gentle curve before slowing and coming to a complete stop, Draco jumped to squat in front of the small door to keep William from exploding out into the outside. With the flare of nobility, an emerald dressed footman quickly opened the door and stood to the side to allow them to exit. Draco pushed his way through first and William shortly stumbled out as a pristinely dressed young man stood staring at them from the steps of the front doors, his hands clasped behind his back professionally as he nodded once at the two men.

"Come on," Draco mumbled and strode across the driveway with William hurrying behind him. They stopped short in front of the auburn haired lad clad all in black and waited a moment before opening his mouth to speak as the strange boy openly stared at their clothing, cutting off either of their remarks when he spoke.

"I am Vincent. I assume you are William Shakespeare and his apprentice?" He blandly asked, his gaze trained on Draco.

"He is the poet, not I," the blonde conceded and William bristled as Vincent turned a weary eye to glance him up and down.

"Very well. I am Madame LaFontaine's assistant, the personal event organizer for our beautiful and respected Queen, Elizabeth the First. She is expecting you in the Great Hall." Vincent did not wait for a response and promptly turned on his heel to strut to the large entrance doors, waiting for the doorman to haul it open before entering the shadowy depths of the castle.

"The Queen is waiting on us?" William called cautiously, pausing the footsteps of the Assistant.

"Don't be a dunce," he called scathingly over his shoulder as his scarce auburn beard twitched. "The Queen is too busy for the likes of you," he said and returned his pace as he took off once more.

They were almost running to keep up with the young man, their eager eyes darting into the passing rooms and down the fleeting hallways as they hurried to make pace with his quick steps. He bolted through a set of large, open double doors and William and Draco halted just inside the archway as Vincent strode purposefully across the long, sunlit Hall to hesitate beside a yelling black haired woman, his hesitant gaze glancing to them as he rapidly spoke to her. She looked to them as well but turned her head back to scream a line of rapid instructions to an errant servant before moving her large body towards them completely.

They did not move but Draco knew to bow slightly to the woman when she approached and stopped within feet of themselves.

"You're the bloke with the play?" She bluntly asked, staring at William as his chocolate eyes widened nervously darting around the room as he fought to keep down his trembling anxiety.

"Yes Madame," Draco smoothly answered, boldly grabbing her wrist to bend and kiss the back of her dry hand. "And I am half of his creative inspiration for this wonderful story that you will see during the Gala. He truly is a master of words and you will not be disappointed in your choice of entertainment. And we are honored and willing to accommodate whatever you need to today to finalize all decisions for the event."

Vincent scowled at the stunned silence of his bitchy boss, glancing with disgust at her flushed cheeks as she fluttered her eyelashes like a teenage girl.

"Please, call me Marie," she said. "And you are..."

Nodding politely but with an inviting smile, he answered, "Draco Brandt." Figuring his last name would still be too suspicious in London despite his family's 'current' location in Scotland, he was ready to fill in the blank with Isla's surname.

"Well, _Draco,_ I can see where your lad found the inspiration," she flirted and he widely smiled in return, earning a confused frown from William as Draco glanced to him with raised eyebrows as if to say, _What? Someone has to smooze._ "Shall we discuss the play then?" Marie asked and eagerly William jumped forward as she glanced at Draco with dismay.

"Madame LaFontaine, it is such a pleasure to put together a show for Her Majesty. I must say it will be the peak of my career," he gushed and the older woman looked back to Draco with longing as William grabbed her elbow and began leading her and Vincent down the columns of the room, the dark haired man expecting the wizard to follow behind in silence as he took the floor. Draco was fine to do just that but knew his chance when he saw it and slipped behind a marble pillar and into a shadowy alcove as the trio walked on, beginning a discussion on the merits and disadvantages of a dressing room behind the stage versus a changing room elsewhere in the castle.

Waiting until they were preoccupied near the full length windows, Draco hurried against the wall and ducked into a discrete servant's walkway. He pushed through a swinging door and wandered down a narrow hallway until another door opened to an ornately decorated stone pathway. Delicious aromas wafted down the airy walkway and he suspected that the kitchens were nearby. Getting caught was the last thing he needed and Draco smartly hurried in the opposite direction when the lengthy shadows of two gossiping chefs appeared around a close by corner and the clinking of metal signifying dishes or carts of food they were carrying. His steps quickened and Draco glanced both ways through the open archways as a cold wind tore through the airy walkway.

To his right was large hedge he had seen when they were coming in, beyond that a taller stone wall that was the first and finale barricade. On the left was a brown grass courtyard with protruding stone buildings eclipsing half the open space. Draco strode forward and paused with his hands on the stone railing as he gazed out into the interior gardens of the castle. He glanced about the exterior surfaces, looking up for his gaze to circle the top of the buildings and his grey eyes catching on several white uniformed guards atop the tower at the end of the hallway he was in.

_Bingo._

Draco turned and resumed his path down the stone walkway, confident in his steps as he continued to carry out Isla's wishes. He was striding confidently, sighting two guards standing outside the entrance to the tower as he kept moving. Suddenly he was jolted sideways as someone literally ran into him.

"Oh I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" A young woman hurried and frenzied hands rushed over his clothing to make sure he was alright as Draco glanced down at the inky black head of the servant girl with tipped her head back to reveal a delicate porcelain face. "Are you okay, sir?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Draco calmly responded and tipped his gaze down to take in the small waist and firm ass below heaving breasts.

She briefly smiled, her hand staying on his hip as he peered at her intently. There was a loud commotion from an intersecting hallway and the girl jumped, emerald eyes widening as men shouted angrily.

"Vivian! Where are you?" They called tauntingly. "You can't run forever, love."

The servant hesitated, glancing up at his shocked face before bolting to run past him. Draco was intrigued now and hurried to follow the following ebony locks as the men's footsteps grew louder behind them.

"Wait!" He harshly whispered, his breath catching as he rounded a short corner to collide with Vivian as she was pulling shut a broom closet door. His momentum propelled them forward and the small door shut loudly behind their falling bodies as the light was extinguished from the dark room.

"Ahhh owww!"

"Ooouufff shite! Bullocks!"

They respectively grumbled as Draco politely untangled himself from the Muggle and stood, offering her a hand of assistance in the darkness.

"Why are you running from those men?" He whispered when she was standing, tugging on her hand when she tried to release his grasp.

"It's a long story," Vivian sighed, jerking towards the door when the rowdy taunts and jeers of the men grew closer, their steps echoing so loud they must have almost been outside the door.

"Viiiiivvvvviiiiiaaannn," one man sang off key. "Come out to play."

"She's a whore, she just needs motivation," another said brusquely. "Vivian!" He yelled, "We won't hurt you, I _promise."_

The rowdy men laughed easily and Draco felt Vivian stiffen next to him in the tight space of the storage closet. Her small feet inched forward and he knew she would run out there to angrily tell them off before they hoisted her off, prevented as he rapidly grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against his chest, her dark head pressed under his chin as she wiggled.

"Stop! Let me go!" Vivian protested.

"Do you want those men to find you?" Draco harshly asked, his grip around her shoulders tightening as she slowed hesitantly, the stray hairs tickling his neck as she shook her head. When she stopped, suddenly the new curves of her body seemed bold as their bodies were held together. Vivian seemed to notice the hard muscles of his torso also because one small hand slipped up to lightly trace circles into the breast of his shirt as she tilted her black head back to peer at his close face in the dark.

Draco realized his hold on her upper body was too strong and released his arms but Vivian remained there, large breasts enticingly pressed against his heaving chest. All it would take was the barest tilt of his head and their lips would be touching, he was sure of it. He could feel her slight breath against the cooling sweat along his collarbones, he could feel her small hand tracing it's way up his chest until it was grasping at the lapel of his coat to yank his head down.

The motion jerked his blonde head and Draco inhaled a slightly shocked gasp as Vivian met his lips in a crushing kiss. Her thin lips hurriedly pecked at his mouth before her small tongue poked out to lick at his face. Not only was her technique all wrong, everything about the kiss felt awful because it was not right. Her lips were not as plump as Isla's and her methods were too brazen, nothing like Isla's slow, tender kisses that always left him a little breathless.

"I can't - This is wrong - I got to -" Draco rambled as he pushed Vivian away from him and quickly threw open the small door to bolt outside and rapidly turn the corner to hurry down the stone hallway.

Glancing both ways, he distinctly saw the group of men after Vivian walking down the walkway perpendicular to his own path. He paused to lean against a stone archway to catch his breath but upon hearing timid footsteps and scraping of a wooden door, Draco turned and rushed down the direction he had come and ran full speed until he found the discrete servant's entrance door and hastily retraced his steps until he was pushing open the shadowed door to walk into the back of the Great Hall where William was animatedly discussing scenes and backdrops with Marie and Vincent.

They all seemed to have forgotten his presence until he noisily strode down the middle of the cavernous Hall to stop shortly of their places as he vigorously stared at William, urgency widening his silver eyes as the dark haired playwright crinkled his eyebrows in sudden concern.

"What is it, Draco? Everything all right?"

He shook his blonde head and strands of long locks fell from the leather strap as he opened his delicate lips to spout an egregious lie.

"I am not feeling well. Maybe I caught what Isla had those weeks ago, I'm just going to walk back to the theater and take a rest."

Draco turned, not leaving time for a response as he hurried off. William jumped forward and followed him, calling, "Draco! Wait, you can take the carriage back! It will take me later!" But he kept hurriedly walking as William chased after.

"No, it's fine," he called back and practically ran through the open doors to sharply turn to the left and jog down the stone hallway. He picked up his pace slightly, peering up and down the halfway open hallway for a spare hallway or doorway that he could escape through. William yelled something behind him again but Draco saw a dark archway and ducked inside, pulling out his wand and closing his eyes to quickly Apparate to the dirty cobblestone alley just outside of the theater on the other side of London.

William had run had as fast as he could and saw a flash of blonde hair and black jacket as Draco ducked down a dead end hallway up on the right.

"Draco!" He called again but got no answer.

His hurried steps propelled him down the hallway and he jerked his hips to turn and glance down the empty hallway as the blonde man's name died on his lips. Where the hell had Draco disappeared into thin air to? And how did he do it?

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**A/N:**

**Wow this chapter was fun to write. I've found an easier method of keeping track of the mini plots of each chapter and hopefully they'll come rolling out now. **

**Anywho, we are coming into the final stretch of the story. A few more chapters and we'll be done. Leave me a review and let me know what you think, I LOVE reading your comments and gushing about them all day. So leave a review or else I'll hunt you down. **

**And add me on facebook. The link is under my 'homepage' on my profile and it takes you right to it. **


	14. Happy Christmas Indeed

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure. **

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**Chapter Fourteen – Happy Christmas Indeed **

The mention of Christmas had thrown Isla into a fit of panic, the men returning together late that night as if nothing was amiss. They stank of alcohol and were both cold to the touch but neither seemed to mind as Draco and William stumbled to their respective beds and passed out in a drunken heap. Several days elapsed and she was growing more anxious by the hour as she escaped the theater once or twice a day to scour the snowy streets for gifts, handfuls of stores closed because of the enormous winter storms that rained perfect snowflakes. The weather was no match for the blonde witch who was on a mission to find the perfect present for the two men who had seen her through the last couple months.

She really had no idea what Draco would want but was quick to find a fancy set of embellished parchments and quills for William that she knew he would love. Spotting an ornately bound notebook as well, she purchased the lot and stepped out of the small literary store, frowning slightly as she peered down the street to look at the other store's titles. Nothing out of the ordinary caught her attention so Isla meandered down the barren cobblestone path until she arrived back at the theater and safely hid the gift for the playwright.

She went out the next day..

And the next day.

And the day after that.

Until it was three days before Christmas and Isla still could not find a present for Draco that would convey her love, appreciation, and hope for their future. Things had progressed into a flirtatiously friendly relationship and although they had not talked about their feelings and emotions, she could tell from the rare glint of passion or his faltering words that the blonde wizard, although he had not regained his memories, was growing fond of her presence and sometimes trailed after her when she left a room. The first few weeks they had been in the 16th century, she had chalked it up to a self-preservation strategy but now, Draco seemed to enjoy her company and even went so far sometimes as to start an argument just so they could spend time together. Isla did not realize his motives but would take what she could get until they remedied their situation.

_If we were back home,_ she thought dismally as she ambled down a familiar London street while shopping once more_, I could find him an portable Pensieve._ Chuckling to herself, Isla smiled half-heartedly and added_, A real tongue-in-cheek gift that he would appreciate but still find humor in._

Sighing heavily, she tipped her blonde curls back to gaze up at the dusky afternoon sky and kept walking down the cobblestone street. A glint of metal down a darkened alleyway caught her attention and Isla stopped in the middle of the street as her head rotated and her blue eyes narrowed as she peered down the shadowed path. Halfway down the tight alley, a small metal sign flapped in the slight breeze and she waited for the wind to die before she could accurately read the hidden store's title.

_The Witch's Brew._

Her footsteps were curious and Isla glanced both ways up the street before cautiously stepping into the dark opening of the alley and pacing until she stood in front of a dingy wooden door. A river of rainbow colors peeked from under the seam of the bottom of the door and she tilted her head eagerly, her heightened sense of smell picking up the mystic scent of magical herbs and brews. Without pausing she placed her small hand on the rusty doorknob and turned the aperture until the creaking hinges turned and the wooden surface slid open.

A slight bell tinkled alerting her entrance and Isla's sapphire eyes darted through the dusty, rare sunlight beams as she glanced past hanging strands of moss and past numerous glass jars filled to the brim with questionable liquids and even more disturbing items. As her vision rapidly adjusted to the dim rooms, she realized there was no attendant at the counter and less nervously stepped over the threshold as a strong wave of brewing potions wafted from the back of the store with the cool breeze blowing through.

"Aye'll be right wit' ya!" A craggy voice called from behind a tattered curtain with steaming trails of color seeping around the cloth.

This was definitely not another Muggle store that she had stumbled upon.

Glancing back over her shoulder, Isla pressed the tips of her fingers against the rough edge of the door and pushed it shut lightly to extinguish all sight and sounds of the street beyond. She was anticipating a conversation with a magical person after long being in the company of Muggles but she was hesitant to openly reveal herself. Quickly meandering through the overflowing aisles and shelves, she was about to turn around and hurry out when her gaze caught on a wooden case mounted on the wall containing trays of silver knifes and daggers. Her inner warrior pushed her feet forward until Isla was bracing herself precariously against the edge of the protruding shelf, her breath hitching as she stared at the beautifully ornate handles of the short weapons.

One hand straying to touch the sharp metal, her decision to meet the storekeeper or dash was decided as she faintly heard shuffling feet from the other side of the room. Blue eyes suddenly wide, Isla grabbed the hilt of her wand from beneath her thick cloak and shortly waved it next to her leg as she hastily whispered a concealing charm.

The drab of a curtain peeled away and a wrinkled, mismatched old woman trotted through. Her eyes were milky with cataracts but she peered around the dim store, looking for an errant customer before frowning tightly.

"'Ello?" She called irritably. "Anybody in 'ere?"

A sprightly black cat wound around her stumpy legs swathed in glittering purple fabric, meowing loudly as his dark head tilted back and bright yellow eyes gazed up at the old woman.

"Must oh just been a Mugg'oh wandering in," she cooed reassuringly to the feline and the cat meowed once more as he wandered back into the mysterious room and the woman turned as well. "'em wards keep 'em ou' every time, Henry-boy. No one ou' 'ere ta talk ta."

The delusional witch moved behind the falling curtain, still mumbling incoherently now, and Isla released a tight breath as her eyes blinked rapidly and she relaxed her rigid stance. Anxious nerves had caused her random invisibility and she still felt the tingling remnants of needless anxiety as she left herself concealed, turning once more to gently lift the swirling grip of a sharp, 4 inch dagger that weighed more than it looked as she grasped the hilt with familiarity. The bright silver glinted and gleamed, polished perfectly as the metal seemed to dance under her fingers.

_Goblin metal,_ she realized with a sly grin and jerked her wrist both ways to flick the fat blade expertly. The dagger fit in her palm suitably well and her ocean eyes darted to glance at the fraying curtain hiding the old witch before she slipped the silver weapon into the folds of her heavy cloak, fluidly turning to ease past the jumbled piles of randomized merchandise.

Just as she was reaching for the mismatched doorknob on the inside of the store, her moving knee brushed a wobbly crate and sent the stack of items flying. Blinking hesitantly, Isla yanked open the wooden door and threw herself through the entryway, the tinkling bell mixing with the shattering of glass and breakable knickknacks as she hurriedly jogged down the littered alley and propelled herself into the London street with panicked stares from passing strangers.

On the morning of Christmas Eve William announced giddily that he would have food and alcoholic libations in celebration of the holiday. All of the actors and stage hands were invited to the seasonal party and Isla grew anxiously merry at the prospect of a laid-back affair that would give everyone the chance to relax and unwind for the first time in months. Draco had groaned at the mention of a party and shrugged away from her when Isla attempted to coax an answer out of him when she asked what he had gotten her for the holiday. He was able to dodge her questions as the cast of men gathered to begin a loose rehearsal and he eagerly scooted off when the man playing Mercucito called for assistance with his dialogue.

He thought he had been too willing to leave her company but a nagging guilt pulled down the corners of his lips as his slight hands trembled with the notion that he too, was still fretting over getting a gift. Draco realized he could have made time to slip out and seek out the perfect present for Isla but somehow the days had elapsed without his notice. Although he now knew her better than he did when his memories were first wiped away, he was still unsure as to what to get her when it came to a personal gift, as most men worried even after years in a relationship.

Around noon, Isla looked up from her regulatory position in the middle of the raised seating and frowned when her blue eyes sought out the bright towhead of her partner and did not see him after several moments of visibly searching. It was not a tough conclusion to come to as the majority of the acting crew were dark haired men with the exception of Charles Worthington. She hopped off her seat and paced through the rows until she was striding down the wooden stairs and moving across the foreground of the stage until she tilted her blonde head back as she stopped at the edge of the raised, circular platform.

She called for William then several of the lead actors and received the same answer, no one could remember seeing Draco in the most recent hour nor could they recall when he would have left the theater. Isla furrowed her brows and spent almost an hour searching every nook and cranny of the entire theater before she arrived back in front of the stage, Draco-less. She would worry that he had been kidnapped if she knew otherwise that he was trained and skilled enough to thwart ninety-nine percent of attacks.

It was not until later that evening when the work was done and the festivities had begun that she noticed a blonde head bobbing through the thick crowd of merry men and women, all the Muggles easily inebriated from their weaker alcohol. Isla was talking to a flamboyantly gay Theodore, standing precariously close to a large fire pit that had been moved in for the occasion when Draco broke through the thin line of people as he strode purposefully towards her, a knowing smirk pulling at his bearded lips. Butterflies rambunctiously swirled in her stomach and she felt her heart plummet through her feet when his smile became genuine and he came to stand just in front of the pair as he waited politely for their conversation to end, his silver eyes never leaving Isla as she smiled distractedly at the drunk actor. Theodore kept rattling on about why he thought he was better suited for the part of Romeo than Charles, oblivious to Draco's growing irritation as the blonde wizard stepped closer until the actor glanced up with a drunken startle.

"Draco!" Theodore loudly proclaimed. "Where have ya been, mate? We was worried about you."

He threw a short arm over Isla's taller shoulder and the witch blushed, gazing down as Draco smirked at her uncomfortability.

"I just had to run some errands," he coolly established and Theodore shrugged his lose body as he lifted a metal tankard to his lips to hungrily gulp down the ale.

"Would you mind excusing us, Theo?" Draco rhetorically asked and placed a warm hand on Isla's forearm as she leaned towards him and the other man's arm fell off her shoulders. The actor nodded loosely and turned to walk to another group of party goers, his gait wobbly as he sloshed his drink with each step.

Draco proffered his arm and Isla slipped her arm through the opening to rest her small hand on the crook of his elbow as he guided her away from the loud festivities to the shadows surrounding the private doorway into William's, and currently their, private chambers. He glanced back across the merry rivalries before grasping both her hands in his own and squeezing tightly. She could tell he was nervous for whatever he was about to say by the slow ticking of his jaw as he loosened then tightened his clenching teeth as he thought through what and how he was going to speak.

His lips opened but Draco merely chuckled anxiously as he dropped her hands and grabbed the lapel of his coat to dig around in a pocket. Isla watched with piqued interest and her honey eyebrows shot up when his right hand produced a gleaming silver chain with a small diamond encrusted pendant that resembled a crude bird. She gasped in surprise and her blue eyes lifted to meet Draco's gaze as he gently offered her the necklace, lifting it by both ends and gesturing with his hands that he wanted to put it on her.

Isla nodded once and gathered her curls, lifting them off her neck as he walked behind her and lightly placed the cold metal against her collarbones as he fastened the clasp and began to finally speak.

"This chain is enchanted to never be removed unless you take it off," he gently whispered as her hair fell back down and her fingers touched the rough pendant as she gazed down at it. "Even when you transform into your hawk, the necklace will stay on. It was rumored in my family to have existed but no one had ever seen it because it was also said to have been stolen around 1600."

Isla's blonde head jerked up and her fingers paused on the small bird, Draco's proud smirk derailing her happy acceptance of the gift.

"You stole from your own family?"

"Only for you, love," he replied cheekily and Isla could not help but smile goofily as she peered down at the necklace once more.

"Thank you," she said after a moment. "It's beautiful."

Draco nodded soundlessly, clasping his hands behind his back as he moved to stand in front of her.

"I was going to wait until later," she started as she too reached into the folds of her cloak and rummaged until she grasped the neatly wrapped present and pulled it out unceremoniously. "Here," she added, thrusting the small, rectangular package at his chest.

Draco grabbed the present, making sure to brush his fingers against hers, and tucked one nail under the wrapping to tear it off. Throwing the paper to the ground he held the leather sheath across both palms, gazing to Isla with curiously raised eyebrows. She nodded encouragingly and he slowly tugged at the covering until it was off, revealing the detailed dagger with the wide blade. One finger ran down the sharp edge and again he raised his silver eyes in question as she shifted anxiously.

"You have a collection at home," she explained uneasily.

"I know," Draco quietly responded, his focus on the tip of the blade as he pressed the sharp point into the pad of his thumb. "I began keeping them when I started at Hogwarts."

Isla did not know what to make of his reaction and stood waiting with wide, blue eyes, watching until he placed the blade back in the sheath and covered the dagger as his seemingly emotionless face tilted to look at her, the corners of his mercury eyes falling as he sighed with relief and his perfect lips turned up in a wide smile. His heart was bursting with happiness at the thoughtfulness of her gift and he quickly pocketed the silver weapon and leaned forward to wrap his arms around her stiff shoulders, his bearded chin resting against the side of her curly head as he tightened his grasp and appreciatively whispered, "Thank you. It is the best present I have ever received."

She let her body loosen under his touch and tentatively she reached her arms up to fold behind his back, weakly returning his hug. They stood like that, closely holding each other without speaking, for minutes as their bodies molded together and their breathing matched. When Isla pulled back though, her gaze caught just above Draco's ashy head and she blanched, her face straining to remain calm even though the plant was not magical, the mere sight of mistletoe sent most people into a frenzy. Their contact was electrifying but she did not want to risk the tentative peace they had become accustomed to because of a Christmas 'tradition.' Draco seeing the mistletoe would surely result in passionate kisses that would led to roaming hands and then the inevitable run to the bedroom.

It did not take long for her stunned silence to draw his attention as his blonde head rotated to look up at what she was staring at. Sure enough, a smirk pulled at one side of his mouth and Draco turned back to Isla as his hands that had drifted down to hold her waist tightened and he held her closer within the circle of his arms.

"Happy Christmas, love," he murmured as his head tipped forward and his lips parted gently, his nose pressing into her soft cheek as his mouth, tentatively at first then gaining confidence pushed more emotion into the touch, kissed her plump lips.

She returned his lip lock and the contact made her knees turn to jello when their mouths parted in tandem and his tongue brushed the inside seam of her bottom lip, his teeth nipping at the soft surface as a groan pulled through her throat. That was invitation enough and Draco removed his clasped hands to grab either side of her face as his mouth passionately assaulted her and awakened the sleeping dragon of lust inside them both as her small hands gripped his hips, their kisses evolving into hungry nips and bites. When they parted for air, resting their foreheads together easily, their dilated eyes met and identical devilish grins pulled at their bruised lips. Their near evenly matched heights and similar body size allowed the pair to easily fall into a familiar pattern as their mouths met once more.

Isla's hands were now entangled in Draco's shoulder lengths locks and she ran her nails up and down the line of his scalp lightly as his silver eyes shut and he pressed his hips further into the softness of her waist. Suddenly the winter night seemed stifling hot and with nothing but a door in the way of complete privacy, Draco broke the kiss to push open the wooden door with one hand and spun Isla by the hip with the other, taking a large step over the threshold as he threw her a seductive wink over the shoulder.

She was quick to follow and rushed into the dimly lit office lounge with a kick to the door to shut it loudly as it banged in it's frame. Draco was waiting for her when only the fireplace was lighting their faces and he stopped unbuttoning his inner coat to run at Isla, with hands open as his mouth attacked her lips hungrily and his palms strayed to her curvy hips. She squeaked in response but her sapphire eyes shut enjoyably and she twisted her body to fit against his leaning frame.

Nimble fingers worked between their bodies to finish unbuttoning his coat and when the last one popped free of it's hole she pressed her hands against his lower abdomen until their lips parted and his arms wiggled free of both of his outer coats. The thick garments fell to the floor and his hands rushed back to grab the line of her back and pull her against him, his mouth eagerly pecking at her lips before sliding sideways to kiss down the hollow of her jaw and darting down the side of her neck to suction his mouth to her collarbones. Isla's hands had returned to Draco's shirt and was once more unbuttoning the clothing without looking as her blonde head tilted back, her blue eyes closed, and she moaned gutturally when his expert lips found a sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder above a trio of freckles on her right side.

The white blouse fell open bereftly and Isla worked her hands along the band of his trousers to pull the shirt free, as well as the thin t shirt he was wearing underneath. Draco's mouth had stumbled across a barrier and his slight hands slipped beneath the lining of her cloak as her shoulders were pushed backwards and he moved the heavy coat down her arms until it fell to the wooden floor in a thick pile.

When his large hands warmly grabbed her hips and pulled her flush against his hard body, a hot coiling of unfiltered lust pooled in her stomach before dropping to gather wetness between her thighs. The thin material of his trousers afforded her the distinct impression of his growing, hard cock and Isla rotated her hips forward as her small hands grabbed either side of his bearded face and she pressed her plump lips against his open mouth as the scratchiness of his facial hair heightened her lust.

Their outerwear discarded on the cold floor, the blonde witch and wizard held each other close as their faces stayed together for bits of slowed time. Draco could not seem to drink her in fast enough and Isla had to dip her head back for a moment's breath as his heated lips trailed down the column of her neck.

"Oh Draco," she moaned as his tongue licked at her skin between nipping kisses.

The firelight cast eery shadows across their faces as their mouths met eagerly, eyes closing as their hands roamed over the others body in a short re-familiarization of what they had too long since touched. Draco forcefully pulled back his lips and licked them seductively as her panting breath echoed across his sweating neckline, their gazes meeting as an impish grin spread her plump lips.

"Maybe we should go somewhere less - public," she intoned and he nodded easily, his silver orbs flicking over her shoulder as the light click of the door lock signaled his wandless magic.

His hands moved down to wrap around her fingers and Draco turned on his heel, open shirt flapping with his movements, and pulled her along as he strode through the small office lounge. Her steps were light behind him and her grip tightened as he shook his long blonde locks and tossed a secretive wink over his shoulder, his free hand turning the metal doorknob and pushing open the wooden door as a sliver of pale moonlight passed through into the dark confines of the office. The hinges creaked but the gasp that escaped her parted lips was verbally louder as Isla's blue eyes widened in surprise and she peered over the transformed bedroom.

On the short window sill behind the bed rows of flickering tea lights lit the room and cast dancing shadows over the foggy glass. Other random, small candles floated along the seams of the walls and brightened the room more than she had ever seen even in the daylight. The enlarged bed was perfectly made with fresh black sheets and sparkling white rose petals were scattered across the soft surface, romanticizing the atmosphere as Draco wearily glanced at her.

"You've had this planned, you sneaky bastard," she quipped sassily and the knot of nerves in the pit of his stomach dissolved as Isla stepped over the threshold of the bedroom and pressed her curvy body against his lean, muscled frame, smirk in place as her small hands gripped at the lapels of his parted blouse.

"Tis better to give than to receive," he quipped and let his head fall until their lips met again. Isla grinned against his mouth, weaving her short fingers through his long locks as his silver eyes shut desperately, savoring the feel of her lips and the curve of her body. "I want to show you that I appreciate you and everything you have done for me since - Well, since this whole mess started but also everything before that," he murmured against the skin of her jaw as his kisses trailed south again.

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice," she joked but stumbled through several phrases when Draco pulled back with raised eyebrows as if to say, 'do you not want me to continue then?'

"This -" he said gesturing to the magically decorated room, "is how I am showing my gratitude."

Isla dropped her blue gaze, her dark eyelashes resting against her flushed cheekbones as her bottom lip was captured by her teeth and pulled back. Growing up as an only child with parents who were constantly bickering, little attention was shown to her until she arrived at Hogwarts and discovered friendship and happiness. Even through all the years of their relationship, Draco had not shown her this level of affection. He was quick to purchase an expensive gift when he had done something to upset her but he had never really put forth the effort to make a romantic gesture such as this. Joyful tears blurred her vision and she blinked, laughing lightly to dispel her heavy emotion as one dainty hand wiped away the wetness.

"Oh, love," Draco sadly muttered and opened his arms wide to wrap around her softly as his blonde head rested against her golden curls.

After several long moments of comfortable silence, he raised his hands to cup either side of her face as his blonde head tilted back and his lips gently pressed against her own. The kiss started out soft but quickly evolved into a passionate free for all as their lips moved faster and the smacking of their mouths grew louder. Isla inched her small hands between their bodies to place her palms on his shoulders underneath the lapels of his shirt and slowly slid her hands over the curve of his arms, pushing the light garment off with her movements. He felt her distracting touch, and while his cock hardened further at her feather light caress, Draco jerked his lips away and placed his large hands on her wrists to still her motions. Shaking his head playfully and grinning devilishly, his hands released her arms to grab her by the biceps, careful of her healing injury, and forcefully turn her body until the backs of her knees were pressed against the soft ledge of the mattress.

Blue eyes were slightly widened and honey eyebrows were inching upwards when she finally realized that he was indicating his control of the situation and wordlessly asking that she comply. The swirl of lust growled in her stomach and tingling ripples echoed across her inflamed skin as she dipped her curly head slightly and admitted his dominance. Draco smirked knowingly and bent his shaggy head to pepper kisses along the protruding outline of her collarbones, his beard tickling her heaving breasts as Isla lifted her arms to curl her fingers through his silky locks, her eyes shutting in pleasure as his kisses turned into biting nips and his tongue slipped out to lick at the small bruises his mouth left behind.

His lips worked further south until his face was buried in her thick cleavage and his nimble hands deftly slipped under the lacy collar of her gown to inch it over the tops of her shoulders, leaving the material around her upper arms as her breasts were pushed together even more tightly. Draco used his light touch on her arms to push her backwards, his body remaining in place and slightly bent as he smirked lustfully as her eyes widened at the sudden momentum and she fell ungracefully to the bed. He followed her movements, placing a knee of either side of her thighs as each hand pressed into the bed next to her head and he hovered over her startled form.

Isla arched her back enticingly, her lips moving within a breath of his parted mouth as her long eyelashes fluttered and her breasts lightly touched his chest with every large inhale she took. Her lips brushed forward to place a light, teasing kiss to the tip of his nose and Draco growled at the sudden contact, his pupils dilating even further as he suppressed the desire to make this quick by tying her up again and fucking her until the moon turned into the sun. It would not make matters any easier with their relationship but at least he wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit foreplay when his cock was hard enough now to shag for days.

_Foreplay it is,_ Draco thought with bitter resolution, his lips tight to contain the groan of pleasure he felt when Isla's feisty mouth licked at the column of his neck, her nose rubbing through his beard lovingly as his hips jolted and the rough fabric of his trousers scratched at the sensitive head of his dick. _I'm in control here, not her. _

Taking charge, Draco did what he knew best and grabbed her jumping wrists to hold them in one hand. He sat back on his heels and brought her upper body with him as she sat between his legs. His free hand wrapped around the side of her neck, his fingers curling into her thick mane as his blonde head dipped forward and he pressed his lips to her mouth. Isla easily complied and matched her motions to his as their necks rotated and twisted with the growing intensity of their kiss. So heated was the union of their mouths that she did not notice when his grip dropped her wrists and her hands hung limply in the open space between their bodies as Draco continued to hold her head in place while his other hand gently tugged at one sleeve of her gown. His fingers felt the silky material of another garment and one grey eye peeled open to glance down at her bare shoulder to notice the creamy cloth of a thin slip. Brushing both garments down her skin, he allowed his right hand to fall from holding her curly head so that he could work down the sleeves on her other arm as her mind was preoccupied elsewhere.

When the sleeves could go no further, Draco moved his head back to detach their lips and his tongue wiped at the seam of his puffy lips as Isla boldly met his stare with an impish grin. His grey eyes were attracted downwards to the fluffy pillows of her breasts as they strained against her awkwardly placed gown. The sleeves were tight around her arms and the lacy trim cut into her skin but the slight pain was imagined as he pinched two fingers around the top most button running down the bodice of the dress and flicked the small pearl until it popped open. Isla's chest widely heaved as the undoing of her gown afforded her chest more room and with each released button her breasts wiggled more freely with impending freedom.

Halfway down Draco grew more impatient and tugged at the already open flaps of the bodice, sending the remaining buttons flying as the gown ripped completely open. His irritated frown became a triumphant grin as he jumped backwards off the bed to lean against the mattresses and bend at the waist as his fingers dug under the combined materials of her dresses and tugged them off her chest, down her torso, and threw the fabrics into a pile behind him distractedly as Isla now lay nude on the bed before his hungry eyes.

Never one to be shy in their naked skin, she smiled wide, baring the ridged edges of her teeth seductively as a slow exhale pushed her hard nipples forward and then down. When his knees pressed into the mattress and his weight shifted towards her, Isla thrust her shoulders forward to sit up as her nimble fingers reached for the buttons securing his trousers around his lean waist. Draco saw the quick motion of her hands and snapped to attention as he grabbed her wrists tightly and smirked.

"Am I going to have to tie you up again to get you to cooperate?" He drawled slowly as his blonde head tilted to the side and he pushed his face forward until his eyelashes almost brushed her cheek when he blinked. "Because I will **not **object to using force. If necessary," he added against the base of her throat as she shivered delightfully and his mouth kissed the rounded curve of one breast than the other.

She struggled teasingly under his grasp and Draco felt his cock bulge against the cotton of his trousers and thought it would surely break through the fabric soon. "Alright. You asked for it, love," he scolded mockingly and rapidly jerked her wrists above her head as her shoulders popped forward and her breasts stood straight up. Isla grinned with his commanding actions and felt an invisibly strong hand hold down her wrists against the mattress as Draco moved fully onto the bed to lean over her stretched body.

He did not move up enough to capture her lips and instead bent his head to suck on one hardened nipple as his long locks dusted her bare chest. Isla arched into the pleasurable touch and was rewarded when his mouth pulled at the meat of her right breast before nipping at the rosy peak. His tongue lapped around the fullness and his teeth scraped down the soft skin as one hand skimmed down the roundness of her jelloy stomach to lightly hold the curve of her naked hip. Draco's head shifted and his mouth attacked her left breast as Isla moaned satisfactorily and his right hand slipped down the rolling of her torso to slid backwards between her heated thighs, the pads of his fingers tightening against the smooth skin as his grasp was slowly brought to her attention.

His slippery tongue left her puffy nipple as her spine arched and his bearded chin tickled the freckled soft spot between her ribs. His lips kissed a soft path down the pooch of her stomach and his pointy nose trailed lightly, his tongue swirling in the indentation of her belly button as she squirmed and he licked his lips wetly as the hand between her thighs gently tugged until one leg was pushed out to the side at a right angle. His silver gaze down showed moisture among the golden curls atop her pussy and his left hand dropped to her other thigh as he spread that leg as well to reveal her glistening cunt.

Draco was impatient still and although he had planned for this to be a tediously romantic affair, the sight of her naked curvy flesh had him in a tailspin and he thought she really was lucky that he had not tied her down ages ago. One set of long fingers skipped across the shivering skin of her open thigh to skim lightly over the sensitive flesh at the inner junction of her hips, the slightly calloused pads of his fingers running up and down her reddened lower lips as Isla groaned.

"Draco - please," she whimpered and he pressed two fingers past the fat outer lips to run them down the smooth, slippery skin around her quivering pussy. "Please..." She intoned again and with a triumphant grin Draco pressed his wide thumb into the base of her throbbing clit, slowly working the pad of his finger over the pulsing center before gently rubbing small circles around the blood-red tip.

"What, love? What do you want?"

"Make me cum," she begged softly and her knees pushed back further to splay her thighs wider as her hips jumped under his knowing touch. Her hands wiggled beneath the tight spell holding her arms up and she severely wished she had not tried to act cute when he threatened her with light bondage.

"Hmmm," Draco murmured and if by accident or if he did so on purpose, two long fingers pushed past the tight ring of muscles of her pussy and easily slid down her tight channel. His thumb continued lazy circles on her clit and Isla moaned loudly, her hips jerking with the touch of his fingers inside her as an orgasm steadily gained momentum.

The joints of his fingers brushed her inner walls and within moments his middle finger found the spongy pad of her g spot, pressing joyfully as he felt her walls clench around his digits and his thumb rolled her clit faster, her pussy quaking as it entered the pleasurable rolling waves of a mighty orgasm. Draco left his fingers inside her as the ripples slowed and her muscles continued contracting spastically while her clit was still being tweaked. When he did pull his pair of fingers from her dripping cunt with a suctioning pop, Isla opened her blue eyes and tilted her head forward to frown at him down the planes of her body.

She needed more. His fingers could be experts themselves but they were no match for a fat cock and she felt that was what she was missing as a slight breeze blew over her moist lips and she shivered lightly. Draco seemed to agree because his hands did not waste time in finding the buttons of his trousers and quickly unfastening the waist, cautious of his fingers sticky with her juices. His hips shimmied and the now loose trousers fell off his ass before his hard cock caught the fabric and prevented it from removing completely down his legs.

Grunting irritably, Draco slid his left hand down his waist and past a fluff of blonde hair to disappear into his pants and around his cock as he jiggled his hips once more and they fell off around his large hand groping his very hard dick. Stepping out of the trousers and kicking them under the bed, his cock sprang free at last and the coolness of the bedroom shriveled him slightly but his right hand grabbed hold of his meaty pole, smearing Isla's juices down his hard shaft before swiping at the drops of precum at the end of his fat head and stroking his dick faster.

"Do you want me to -" Isla hesitated, slightly embarrassed to say what she called 'naughty words and phrases'. "Ya know -" her blonde curls shook as she bobbled her head and Draco laughed at her attempt to say what she meant without actually saying it.

Still stroking his hard cock, he grinned widely and pressed his knees into the mattress inside the arc of her legs, his stance strong and proud as he stood over her with his dick in hand, shaking his head to tell her no.

"I have been ready for this," he implied mysteriously and judging by the dark color of his imposing cock, Isla knew he was ready to make up for how he treated her the last time they were together intimately. She nodded slowly and watched with growing anticipation as Draco scooted closer to her lying form.

The hand not working his dick to complete hardness reached under her ass to pull her hips closer to him and to open her cunt wider as copious fluids whet her lips. When he was there his waist lowered until the purpled head of his cock was pushing against her slippery opening. One hand on her hip, his silver gaze flicked up to her face and she slowly blinked as his other hand grasped her other side and his hips jutted forward just enough for his cock to slip into her pussy. The ridge of his head scraped the top of her walls and she squeezed around his cock as Draco groaned and pushed his hips forward fluidly.

They did not need words, their bodies were talking enough. Long since jointed, once Draco had the majority of his fat cock inside her tight cunt, their connection felt instantaneous and their motions become synchronized as their hips danced seductively. He was so close before he had entered the velvety tight confines of her hot pussy but now he felt like he was going to explode. Isla was an expert at milking him for all he was worth and her ploys were working superbly as Draco felt the tingling sensation worm through his lower abdomen before his balls shrank slightly, his cock erupting vigorously as his hips continued thrusting and she clenched her tight cunt around him.

His hot seed spilled out from between their slippery union and Draco glanced down to their thrusting hips and felt his dick easily harden at the erotic sight of his fat cock sliding in and out of her reddened cunt lips. While one hand stayed on her hip, the other skipped across the flat skin covering her pelvic bone and reached between their sexual organs to pinch at Isla's clit, earning a rapturous moan from her as, although she had not realized until now and he had made no indication that he had done such, her small hands fisted in the folds of the black sheets.

"Draco, fuck me! Oooooohhhhhh aaaaahhhhhggggghhhh fuuuuccckkk mmmeeee!" Isla screamed and he gladly let the muscled cheeks of his ass squeeze as he moved faster and pinched harder until he felt her walls clench then spastically jump between pumping his cock and pushing her cunt forward as her orgasm pushed her over the climax and into a separate, pleasurable realm.

Draco kept pushing his hips as a second powerful orgasm reared its head and he thrust as hard as he could until his cock finished ejaculating and their motions stilled. Keeping himself inside her, Isla twisted her legs to wrap around his back so she could press the heels of her hands into the mattress to lean forward and tilt her head up to kiss his sinful mouth hungrily. His large hands left her hips to grab her face wholeheartedly and she let him hold her against his body as her small hands wrapped around the thin shirts still covering his torso and held on as they passionately made out. Their lungs were panting heavily when they parted and the renewed hardness of Draco's cock brought grins to both their sweaty faces as they fell back against the bed with a soft thud.

After throwing his dirty shirts to the wooden floors, Draco pressed his bare, hard chest to Isla's naked breasts and laid there for a second as her heels dug into the small of his back and his cock adjusted to her tight fit.

They went on for hours. Renewing the fiery passion that their relationship had always had in abundance but had been missing as of late, Draco and Isla made love until their muscles ached and their bodies were drained of all fluids, mainly because they were all seeped into the sheets. When they were tired and satiated, exhausted from fucking as if their bodies never forgot the animalistic dance, their matching blonde heads fell back against the black pillows and Isla curled up against his bare side as one strong arm wrapped around her shoulders.

She pulled the blankets up over their naked bodies, intertwining their legs as she snuggled her face into the crook of his neck and Draco turned his head to kiss her forehead. His free hand waved and all the small candles extinguished and the room fell into a peaceful darkness as the small whisps of smoke drafted about the room. Distantly a clock tower struck midnight, chiming loudly as the blonde witch yawned widely and closed her blue eyes tiredly, content for sleep to find her wrapped in Draco's arms.

"Happy Christmas, love," he mumbled and her nose twitched as the rumbling of his chest woke her slightly.

"Happy Christmas, Draco," she replied before drifting off completely as he tightened his hold on her and shut his silver eyes as well, not a care in the world as the dawning of a new day brought more than just holiday presents.

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**A/N:**

**Yay second lemon! **

**Review and tell me what you think. This took a bit longer to write but I was determined to get it finished in a timely manner. **

**Like I said, this is the end stretch so be prepared for anxiety ridden chapters coming up as Draco and Isla's story comes to an end. **


	15. The InBetween

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure.**

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**Chapter Fifteen - The In-Between**

Christmas Day brought an unexpected snow storm that securely kept all men and women inside on the holiday, most Londoners needing an excuse to stay at home and relax during the stressful times of their country. Draco and Isla did not need a justifiable reason to stay in bed for extended periods of time, their bodies kept them busy enough for two days while the streets were cleared. Their lovemaking did not cease as their nudity continued, William gaining an eyeful of the blonde wizard's naked ass pumping smoothly between the witch's spread knees, her creamy ass jiggling as her head turned over her shoulder at his entrance, when he unceremoniously knocked during the middle of the day to inquire about their levels of hunger. The dark haired playwright had quickly backed out of the room, embarrassed at his faux paus and utterly dismayed at the couple's sudden reunion. Everything else, including their impending, imperative mission, was forgotten, the magical pair lost in their own blissful coupling as the days inched closer to their New Year's departure from the medieval century.

When they finally emerged from the private chambers, arm in arm and sickeningly staring into each others eyes, they were both shocked to find the theater in a complete uproar as half-dressed actors and scrambling stage hands dashed about making final alterations and preparations for the big show in four days' time. William was standing in the middle of the chaos, arms flailing as he angrily directed his cast and crew.

"No! All the scene pieces are going over **there** to be taken to the palace!" He yelled at two men placing a large piece of painted scenery against the railing of the stage, pointing to the far wall where other wooden cut-outs were propped.

"That's_ his_ shirt, Matthew! Your ensemble is _clearly_ marked for your character!" He screamed at a stray actor struggling to push his robust arms through too small holes.

"You must be looking directly at them when you draw your sword, Charles!" He exclaimed to a small group of men practicing a scene. They startled and glanced at the impatient writer before nodding quickly and turning back to their lines.

"Draco. Isla," he called, surprisingly jovial with a wide smile as his mood suddenly shifted and he hopped off the short stool he had been standing on to stride through the crowd and stop at the edge of the stage. "I was wondering when you two would finally grace us with your presence," he teased with a short wink, all animosity gone as the playwright focused on his upcoming show. "I have a lot to do still with the men, could I trouble you to go to the seamstress' house to pick up the remainder of Juliet's gowns? We really ought to have them before the gala to properly mark the scenes."

His words left little room for argument and Isla glanced to a hesitant Draco before eagerly accepting.

"That would not be any trouble at all," she smiled politely and William exhaled a short sigh, turning his head to peer at the actors behind him quickly before smiling graciously.

"Thank you. It really will help along our progress."

"I'm sure we could use some fresh air," Isla modestly responded, suppressing a smirk when Draco stiffened beside her at the implying and slightly flirtatious words. His fingers wrapped around her hand slackened and she tightened her smaller grasp as the tip of her thumb tucked underneath the edge of her hand into his palm. "Her house is off of Bramblewood?" She confirmed with a nod from William, turning to face Draco as his stoic mask eluded the tinge of jealousy he felt for another man even as he stood there holding her hand.

"Shall we go?" She asked rhetorically, jerking his arm as she moved to walk towards the exiting double doors. Draco groaned unnecessarily as he was drug out of the theater but grinned once Isla glared over her shoulder at his false noncompliance.

The cobblestone streets of London were laden with heaps and piles of white snow, the stones invisible as few persons ventured out into the biting cold despite the bright sunshine and blue skies. Men bundled up in gloves, scarves, and thick coats were shoveling snow and Draco wrapped an arm tightly around Isla's waist as she shivered as buried her nose into the high collar of her cloak. The walk was tediously long but the flavorful aromas of a passing pub enticed the pair to hurry to the seamstress' house and retrieve the costumes before the sun traveled further through the clouds and brought them closer to nightfall.

The old woman was warm and greeting, offering them tea and small talk as they hurried through the doorway, shaking errant bits of snow off their outerwear as warmth enveloped them. Graciously declining her offer, the Muggle wandered off with a tsking frown and came back moments later with handfuls of dresses and the same question as to whether they would stay for a bit.

Draco rushed them back out the door with the small lie that William had sent them urgently and was requiring the costumes immediately. She reluctantly relented and sent them off with the promise that they would enjoy her hospitality next time. He removed the pile of dresses from Isla's heaving arms and easily held them aloft, glancing down the street to make sure they were alone before waving his long fingers and shrinking the garments. The miniature gowns lay flat in his palm and he neatly tucked them into a deep pocket of his coat before sliding a warm hand over Isla's shoulders as she clutched one hand on his opposite ribs and snuggled under his arm, the blonde pair neatly trudging through the slushy snow and over slippery streets before stopping at the delicious smelling pub for a quick and filling bite to eat.

The sun was setting earlier in the short winter days and when they emerged from the warm pub mid afternoon, the gassy ball of light was sinking over the tops of the buildings into the far off ocean. A chillier breeze blew through the darkening streets as the blonde pair held each other closely as they ambled back to the theater. They were within sight of the large wooden structure, blocks away from returning home safely, when Isla jerked free of Draco's grasp to peer into a frosted store front window. Neatly on display on a short shelf were rows of sparkly tiaras, each slightly different with various fake jewels and stones. A small hand pressed to the cold glass as she looked over her shoulder at Draco standing in the middle of the street patiently waiting for her. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his wool coat and his blonde hair played with the wind, an impatient frown marring his handsome face as he stood watching her merry behavior.

"Look Draco, they're beautiful."

He grunted in response, the bearded line of his jaw ticking as he silently counted to five and waited for her to come back to him so they could quit dallying in the cold streets. Isla narrowed her blue gaze at him irritably, hmphing disappointedly before turning on her heel to move across the wet cobblestones. There was no traction beneath her shoe and the swirling momentum of her step was too quick; Isla lost her clumsily balance, throwing an arm out behind her as she fell ungracefully. Her entire body was jarred when she painfully hit the ground, her wrist snapping loudly as she was jostled by the impact.

In the blink of an eye she was on the ground and Draco was wondering what in hell happened. His feet hurried to her side to help her up but Isla thought was she faster and rapidly attempted to stand. Her footing held even less traction and she fell again, her ass sliding across the slick stones as her shoulders fell backwards and the echoing crunch of her skull hitting the pavement resounded in the empty street. Tears instantly sprang to the corners of her ocean eyes upon the second, shocking fall and a weak groan pushed past her lips as her vision swam and she felt Draco's large hands sliding under her shoulders and knees before he was lifting her off the ground and cradling her to his hard chest.

"Shhhh. It's going to be alright," he soothed, her broken wrist caught between their bodies as Isla whimpered. "I'll heal it when we get back. Just calm down for a minute, love."

"Draco, it hurts!" She cried, tears streaming down her cheeks as she pressed her dripping nose into the front of his coat. "Everything hurts!"

"Everything where?" He asked softly as his strides lengthened and he made sure to watch his step so they did not topple again.

"My wrist!" She moaned. "My whole waist feels numb! And my back - it hurts so bad! Ahh bullocks," she swore when she attempted to move and her muscles tensed up to where she didn't feel she could move.

"Worse than the time you fell down the abandoned well looking for that poor girl's kitten and broke every bone in your right leg?" Draco prodded reassuringly.

"Yes!" Isla screamed, her mouth still very capable of working as her shrill tone almost burst his eardrum, a light bulb flickering to life in her mind at his words. "Skele-Gro is nothing compared to this!"

"Alright, we're almost there," he said and sure enough when her curly head fell backwards across his upper arm, the recognizable archway above the double doors into the theater were merely yards away. Draco only paused to check his balance before slamming a boot into the door jam and abruptly kicking them open as Isla groaned, her eyelids shutting and eyebrows meeting in the middle of her forehead when he tightened his grip on her body and squeezed her aching limbs.

Inside, the crowd of actors were startled as everyone on stage halted and turned to see who was breaking in. William was pushing his way through the crowd, scowl and angry, pointing finger in place and was ready to tell off the stranger but paused when he saw Draco carrying Isla with her head tucked away from sight, curling into herself as they passed through to the office lounge.

"What happened?" He exclaimed. "Is she alright?"

The wizard did not spare a glance back as he responded easily. "She took a spill when we were walking back. Just a little shook up is all."

William was not easily convinced and bolted off the stage to land uneasily, bracing himself in the dirt foreground before jumping up to run after the pair.

"Is she alright?" He asked again, concern marring his voice as he hastily approached. "Did you get the dresses?" He added hesitantly, his own desires still coming above the safety of someone else.

"Yes, we got them," Draco ground out, trying to balance Isla's weight against his chest as one hand awkwardly reached for the doorknob. After several attempts the lock slid out of place and the door fell slightly ajar before his foot kicked at the base of the wooden surface to throw it against the interior wall. He did not wait to see what William was doing but turned sideways to step over the threshold, mindful of Isla's overall pain and cautious not to jar her further.

She lifted her blonde head to see the dark haired Muggle trailing after them, his chocolate eyes curious and worried as he tried to peer over Draco's shoulder to see her injuries. William looked slightly ridiculous as the poofs and ruffles of his costumed blouse fluttered with every small jump he took. Their gazes met for a scant second and he calmed for a moment at the proof that she was alright mentally. Draco repeated the awkward chest hug when he stopped in front of the bedroom door and William leaped forward to place his hand on the metal doorknob, his gaze flitting from Draco to Isla then to her arm. His mocha orbs widened so far Isla thought they were going to pop out of his head and he stared, seemingly horrified, at her limp wrist, the bones broken at just the correct places to make it appear as if her wrist was made out of jello should she wave it around.

"We should get you to a physician!" William exclaimed, his hand noticeably turning the doorknob before his arms flew into the air in a wide arch that was meant to explain his panic.

"Draco can fix it," Isla defended strongly, her voice weak and strained as she met William's fearful gaze with a fierce stare.

"I got this, mate," Draco repeated and smirked slightly, turning around completely to back into the bedroom as she closed her blue eyes and William gawked at her ability to so easily care for this brash man.

The door slammed shut in his face and William sighed heavily as he listened for any noises or sounds of pain coming from 'Draco's fixing things.'

He tried not to but Draco unceremoniously dumped Isla onto the bed, quickly turning and removing his wand as he softly muttered, "_Muffliato_." Behind him, she was groaning with the aches and pains of her most recent in a long line of injuries, straining to sit up before laying across her spread thighs as her abdomen lurched and a bolt of hot pain flashed through her midsection. Her bum wrist lay helplessly against the rumpled black sheets and Draco moved in the short space to kneel in front of the mattresses, gently grabbing her broken hand as he raised his wand and pointed it at the useless, shattered bones.

He whispered under his breath and she jumped with more pain as the bones repaired themselves and the torn ligaments mended. When his wand finished waving, dark bruises formed around her wrist to mark the injury but she limply twisted the joint with little wincing as she attempted to sit up again. The unbearable pain shot through her abdomen once more and Isla whimpered as Draco turned his focus to her scrunched up face, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"What hurts, love?" He asked, lightly placing his hand on her knee as her arms crossed over her stomach and her blue eyes squeezed shut to roll through a thick wave of pain.

"Everything. My waist, stomach, bowels. It feels like someone punched me in the ovaries," Isla cried dismally, glancing up to his concerned face as she clutched her lower body. A line of sweat broke out across her brow and frizzy curls stuck to the perspiration as she groaned loudly.

"Shhh, it's alright, love," Draco comforted and placed a hand on her back to run up and down softly. "Your body is just in shock. You took a pretty nasty fall back there. Twice. You're just shaken up. How about you take a hot bath then we'll call it a night?"

Isla placed her forehead against his hand still on her knee and nodded her spinning head, bracing herself for another blast of pain. Smaller waves assaulted her abdomen but nothing as excruciating as when she had first fallen. Maybe a bath would ease her tense muscles and loosen her stiff joints. She just had to get up first.

"Will you draw the water for me?" She asked tiredly.

"Of course," he replied and fluidly eased from his crouched position to turn and open the door to hurry to the bathroom as Isla slowly pushed her spine backwards one vertebrae at a time until her blonde head rolled in a circle and she blinked to straighten her swaying vision. Her knees felt weak but she pushed her weight forward anyways and shut her eyes to stop the dizziness when she was standing erect. One hand wiped at her brow, massaging her temples as she slowly turned on the spot, opening her sapphire peepers as a small gasp escaped her lips.

A large, wet blood stain was visible on the black sheets and she hesitantly touched a finger to the material to make sure, her gut clenching when her wrist turned over and the tip was red. Panic raced over her skin and she felt adrenaline pumping as her mind jumped into action and she peered about for her wand. She had not been using it as of late because she was skilled enough with wand**less** magic that carrying the wooden stick seemed too inviting for mistakes. Sighing heavily with the thought that she could never find what she was looking for when she really needed it, Isla turned back to the bed and flicked her aching wrist at the blood, muttering _Scourgify_ as the almost invisible stain shrank before disappearing completely. Next her wrist twisted behind her back to instantly erase the red smear that was sure to be covering the ass of her satin gown, swiping her other hand across the material to make sure it came back clean.

Suddenly the sharp pains and brutal cramps were making since as her blue eyes drooped shut and she held back a rain of sobs, the signs of a miscarriage becoming blatantly obvious as she tacked on her enormous bout of sickness last month that at the time seemed to come out of nowhere. She was not a Mediwitch but she thought she knew her body well enough to notice the symptoms of pregnancy. Her hands flattened against her pudgy stomach as she felt for life where there was none.

_Maybe it was something else,_ she thought rashly, trying to rationalize her mistake in not realizing a pregnancy_. Internal bleeding or some bullocks._ But Isla knew with the depressing weight dropping through her gut that it was not the case. She had not known she was with child. How foolish she had been to not examine her health better.

A fog seemed to settle around her brain and a coldness swept in that had nothing to do with the physical environment. Draco called her name from the other room and she distractedly rose from the bed, pulling open the bedroom door as her feet automatically ambled towards his voice.

"Isla! Are you alright?" William questioned. His slight hands braced her upper arms and she winced under the pressure to her flying injury. He mistook her jolt of unregistered pain to his touch and removed his hands but his chocolate gaze dropped to her wrist as he gently grasped her left forearm. The bruise was remarkably hideous but his eyes widened at the mobility of her joints and the complete healing of the broken bones. "How did - what did - Draco? What -" he stumbled.

Isla understood their misstep in inadvertently, slightly revealing their magic, sighing with a slow exhale as one cool hand grazed the uneven roughness of his dark beard, stroking his face to garner his attention.

"_Obliviate_," she whispered as their eyes met and she saw a white flash behind his gaze as his most recent memory was erased. "I'm fine, William," she softly said as he stared dazedly at her. "My wrist was never broken, just sprained. Do not worry about me. Go back outside and tell the men to practice their lines."

His dark head nodded dumbly, his feet turning as he blindly meandered through the office to pull at the door until it jerked open and he stupidly walked out, the spell breaking as he shook his head and blinked in the evening sky. Isla kept walking towards the bathroom, an all encompassing sadness blanking her mind as her good hand pushed at the wooden door and she blinked in the semi brightness of the lavatory. Draco was standing over the metal tub, one hand poised with his wand as he glanced to the entryway, a smile dying on his lips when he saw Isla's fatigue and sadness.

"What's wrong?" He immediately questioned, his hips rotating as he stepped towards her, concern etching his forehead as his honey eyebrows furrowed and his grey eyes narrowed carefully. "You look awful."

"Just my body hating me," she replied honestly, a double meaning inferred as Draco nodded pitifully while his slim fingers itched to slowly pull her gown from her curvy body before helping her bathe with equal carefulness. Her blue eyes peeling to his eager face to gauge his natural response.

"Come on, love. Let's get you in the bath. You need to rest now."

Isla wasted no time and took all his fun as she easily slipped her fingers under the collar of her gown and pushed the sleeves down her arms, the material pulling over her breasts and setting them nakedly free before she twisted her hips to force the dress down her body to pile neatly around her feet. The room was silent as she blankly peered up at Draco and twitched her face into what she hoped resembled a frown when his gaping stare and pointing finger alerted her that something else was wrong.

"Isla. What happened?" He darkly queried, his serious tone jolting her from her foggy mind maze as her eyes followed his jutting finger to blindly stare at her naked thighs.

Covered in various amounts of dried blood.

_Damn it,_ she thought evenly but knew she couldn't change her oversight of cleansing the most visual sight of her miscarriage. Foregoing an immediate response, she sighed wearily and stepped over the ring of her crumbled dress to trudge across the small room. As if on autopilot her hands gripped the rim of the tub before one foot lifted slowly to dip into the steaming water, followed by the other leg as she sunk down into the tub until her neck was resting on the hard edge, the clear water now tinted pink as her skin gleamed clean.

Her gaze followed her toes underneath the water as they wiggled and stretched as far as they could go. She was hesitant to openly state that she had a miscarriage, unsure how he would take the news and knowing that he would not know what to say, probably not the right thing. Isla loved Draco with all of her heart, good traits and bad, but he was quite possibly the worst man alive when it came to comforting someone else. Lucius had not raised him to care for other people's feelings so he never saw the merit in gracefully talking another person through a crisis. Sure, he was fine with injuries and pain-related tears but inform him that a woman is having problems and Draco will be the first person to hide for cover when she comes looking for a shoulder to cry on. And the loss of an infant, his child or not, would only derail their goals and quite possibly cause another rift between the pair.

As her thoughts ran together Draco stood by the side of the bath, his arms stiffly crossed over his chest as he watched her without saying a word.

"Isla. What happened?" He threateningly asked again after a long moment, procuring a short stool out of thin air when her shoulders heaved and an aching sob twisted her face and lurched her heart.

"I don't know," she weakly answered, her eyes remaining shut so she would not have to see the shame and worry lining his handsome face.

"What happened to leave you with blood between your thighs?" He rephrased, bringing a disgusted frown to turn down his full lips. "Is that your - your period?"

_I wish._

"No. The contraceptive potion I take eliminates those."

"Oh."

Draco stared at the roundings of her naked body through the murky water, his lips tight as Isla remained unresponsive. His grey eyes narrowed at the dull stare she was giving the bath water, his gaze traveling to peer at the fresh wrinkles forming around her mouth and the thick shrug of her shoulders. Her breasts were larger and her waist more pronounced with the widening of her flared hips. He was no doctor but the symptoms seemed blatantly obvious now that he connected the dots.

"Were you - Are you ... pregnant?"

The air was sucked from her lungs but Isla remained completely still as she held her gaze on a floating string of bubbles atop the surface of the water.

"I can't have children. I'm infertile," she easily lied, voice cracking accidentally making her emotion seem more genuine. Her breaking heart cracked a piece further as her eyes rose to stare straight ahead, blinking several times as she watched his reaction out of her peripheral. "I have had ovarian cysts in the past and they tend to be somewhat - messy when they burst."

His eyebrows inched higher with every word she said and they were practically in his hairline when she finished over-sharing.

"You just said you're taking birth control, though," Draco exclaimed incredulously.

_Bloody hell._

"It's more of a medication for the cysts," she quickly and too fluidly lied again.

"But there was that one time, in May two years ago?, when you thought you were pregnant..." He trailed off, hoping that she would remember but also not to realize that he had let a recovered memory slip again.

"That was before the Mediwizard confirmed my infertility. He said it was a 'false positive'."

Draco nodded as if he understood what she was saying, as if his thoughts and heart rate weren't running at lightning speed at the notion that he had fathered a second child. They lapsed into silence as he sat dutifully by her side, intently scrutinizing and memorizing every line and detail of her naked body for the thousandth time and she slid further into the cooling water as her thoughts jumped from extreme heartbreak to a growing guilt with each fabrication she told him.

Isla's blue eyes were heavy and she finally let them fall shut as her fingers wiggled next to the outsides of her thighs, creating a soothing ripple underwater as her mind gently hummed with saddened thoughts of 'what could have been's' and 'what almost were's.'

"I want a daughter first," Isla said when the gentle lapping of bath water turned cold and her eyes tiredly opened a sliver.

"A girl with your perfect eyes," she softly added and turned her head sideways to rest it against the metal rim when she heard a short gasp and she peered blankly at Draco.

His chest heaved with overwhelming heartache at the empty glaze to her usual, vibrant ocean eyes and he wished beyond all magic that he could make that pain go away. And sadly Draco realized that there would be always more be suffering for them to endure, from his own misdeeds or through the randomness of the world. Life wasn't fair but he had been raised to think that privilege could be bought or bribed and he was quickly learning that those decisions would come back to bite you in the ass when you least expected them.

Her neck rotated the opposite direction and with the crack of her neck and the readjustment of her spine, a heavy weight of guilt dropped through Draco's stomach to gnaw at his nerves until his anxiety forced his lips apart and he inhaled deeply in sudden preparation to speak, drawing Isla's slight attention as she yawned thickly with one small hand raising out of the water to cover her gaping mouth.

"There's something I need to tell you," he admitted hesitantly. His tense muscles and stiff posture brought a frown to her lips and she held in another yawn as Draco's silver gaze darted across her face nervously.

"Can it wait?" She asked, monotone as if his answer didn't really concern her either way. "I'm ready to go to bed."

His jaw dropped slightly before closing tightly, his shaggy blonde head nodding as his bearded lips tightened.

"Of course, love," he responded, somewhat grateful for the delay but knowing the inevitable would find him relaying his message in the near future.

"Hand me that robe?" Isla asked politely as she cautiously stood, fat water droplets falling off her rounded curves as Draco glanced up and down her naked body before her words registered.

"Oh - yea."

He turned and reached for a fluffy robe that was hanging on a lone hook, his fingers curling into the soft material as he remembered the warming charm he had already placed on the garment. He offered her the covering with one hand and held his other palm open for her to grab as she stepped over the high edge of the metal tub, hesitantly placing one foot than the other on the slippery wooden floor. His grasp lingered but eventually pulled away as Isla shrugged both arms into the heated sleeves and pulled the thick lapels across her chest with a shiver.

Her abdomen was still seizing with shocks of pain but they were less noticeable now, barely a jolting hiccup as she snuggled into the thick fabric, a breeze blowing around her ankles sending goose bumps over her flesh. The mind fog returned as Isla stood there, eyes open but not seeing as she stared at the floor. Draco felt helpless to do anything and realized that she would probably spend the remainder of their days lying in bed miserably. Her gaze lifted when he cleared his throat to get her attention and his grey eyes were expectant as his eyebrows slowly moved upwards. She did not hear him say anything but she felt the weight of her wet hair diminish as her curls dryly sprang together and her head warmed with the silent drying spell.

Isla did not speak but distractedly nodded her appreciation at his gesture, tucking her wrinkley hands into the oversized pockets of the robe as she took a step forward and was forced to focus on her actions as her knees wobbled, feeling depressingly weaker as she finally moved her muscles. Draco wanted to help, he could feel the anxious tension snap every time she huffed a deep breath or paused mid step as a brief bolt of pain shut her blue eyes under the strain, but his trembling hands remained by his side as she lumbered to the bathroom door. He could see a damper on the light that was normally behind her eager gaze and now he let his own shoulders slump as she paused to turn the doorknob, her pale outline disappearing into the shadows of the office as she walked back to the bedroom.

Draco stood motionless, listening for the faint click of the door as Isla returned to bed, sighing heavily as one hand rose to wipe his brow as his silver eyes shut tiredly. Nothing would have prepared him for the bloody sight of her thighs covered in the red liquid, his heart dropped in panic just remembering it, but he knew from her rapidly changed demeanor that something more had happened than a ruptured cyst. He would bet money that she had realized the blood was there. How could she not? Then why didn't she clean it up before he saw her naked?

He dropped to the wooden stool, exhaustion wiping the last bit of energy as Draco pressed his elbows into the fleshiness of his thighs, his shaggy blonde head falling into his hands. He wasn't sure what was right anymore. The final pieces of his memories had resurfaced and he was more ashamed of himself now than he could ever remember. He understood that they had been thrust into this situation unceremoniously but this whole time he felt as if he had been masquerading a lie that would burst forth before too long.

On one hand, he now loved Isla more than he thought possible. He loved every damn quirk and annoyance that made her her. But he had yet to battle with his decisions of the past and knew they would do more harm than good when the time finally came.

Lifting his head wearily, Draco bleakly stared at the still, pink water in the metal tub, reminding him once more that he had duties elsewhere. He slowly stood, finding and gripping his wand with reassurance as he drained the bath, his bearded lips twitching with irritation as a smear of blood ran over the rim of the tub on the far side. After leaning over to reach out and wipe the evidence away, Draco pulled back and frowned, his mind working as he hesitantly stepped to the door and snapped his fingers to extinguish the light. He had just shut the bathroom door and was mid step between picking up his foot to walk across the lounge when the outside door opened and William burst in, shaking his head and shoulders to brush off errant snowflakes.

"Just the man I was looking for," he said brightly when he lifted his dark head and smiled eagerly. "Do you have the costumes, Draco? I would like to examine Juliet's wardrobe before dress rehearsal tomorrow."

The blonde wizard furrowed his eyebrows, confusion marring his face in a moment of forgetfulness. "Oh yes, of course," Draco said when he finally realized what William was talking about and absently patted the breast of his coat to feel for the shrunken dresses. "They're in the bedroom, I'll just be a minute."

He hurried past the fireplace, twisting around the couches as William insisted, "Don't worry, I'll grab them," and quickly strode to the door without pause as Draco jumped in front of him and spread his arms across the wooden frame.

"No!" He exclaimed, his voice dropping to a rough whisper as he narrowed his wide, panicked eyes and calmed his breathing. "Isla's sleeping. It will just take me a moment." Draco rapidly jerked the doorknob and pushed it back a handful of inches as he slid sideways through the crack, his chest heaving as he slid the door back into place.

Moans and groans of pain were coming from the bed and Draco turned to peer into the semi darkness at Isla's body curled up amid the dark sheets as she whimpered through the pain. His heart jumped for her misery but he was interrupted from his woes as William briskly knocked on the door.

"Draco! Everything alright in there?"

"Yes! Fine! Just a moment!"

One hand slid under the lapel of his cloak as he clenched the other tightly, Isla's soft groans tearing at his gut forcing him to turn away as his fingers pinched around the miniature dresses. Appearing out of thin air, he held them aloft and flicked his other wrist as a sizable_ pop_ exploded in the quiet room when the garments returned to full size.

"Draco! Draco!" William knocked again, mindless of the blonde's admonishment that Isla was sleeping. Irritated at the playwright and anxious to get to bed, he fluidly ripped open the bedroom door as the dark haired man fought to keep his balance and not topple into the room auspiciously.

"What!" He growled, an angry sneer pulling back his lips as William scrambled backwards with a slight fear in his eyes.

"I - I ... I just -"

"Here's your costumes," Draco spit out and thrust his left arm holding the dresses forward as the mass of ruffles and layers of fabric swooshed to William. He did not wait for him to grab the garments and pretty much threw them at his chest as William's mouth opened and closed in an idiotic manner as he fumbled to hold all of the gowns. Several fell to the dirty, wooden floor but Draco merely exhaled with a sigh and stepped backwards, grabbing the edge of the bedroom door to swing it shut.

"Aaaahhhhggghhh. Mmmmhhhmm," Isla groaned.

He turned around, pressing his back to the ridges of the door as his silver orbs drooped and he stared at her shaking body. Whether she was cold as well as in pain he did not know but the empty space behind her on the large mattress looked very inviting, as long as he get could his legs to move. Draco threw his shoulders forward and the momentum forced one foot out as he rotated his hips to pause in front of the bedroom door one last time, his wrist waving lazily as he placed a handful of protective and silencing spells on the room, the lock securely in place before he moved to walk the short distance in front of the enlarged bed.

His thick coat came off first followed by a lighter, more fashionable jacket which were both tossed into the dark corner of piled clothing. Two white shirts were removed before his slim fingers twisted at the button atop his trousers and he pushed the pants down his thighs, perching on the edge of the mattresses as his feet kicked out to wiggle free of the garment. Of course it would have been easier if he had removed his suede boots first but Draco patiently bent forward to loosen the ties, tossing his ankle as he pulled at the heel of one shoe then the other as they too were tossed amid the dirty clothing.

Trousers finally off, Draco curled his toes against the cold floor, his blonde head turning to glance over his shoulder as Isla struggled with her unconsciousness. She must have been cold as she had taken to wearing his shirts to sleep but he noticed a thin line of sweat across the top of her brow, small half curls forming around the moisture. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly and her neck was twisting back and forth, lips tight as she clutched at an imagined foe or just tried to work through the pain as she slept.

Naked except for a pair of light, knee length long johns, Draco turned the rest of his body to move up the bed as he kicked the corners of the black sheets away from his pale legs, tucking his long body underneath the blankets slowly as he adjusted to the bed. At first he just lay there on his back, large hands folded over his taut stomach as he evened his breathing and held his mercury eyes shut in an attempt to block out Isla's noises. He was almost asleep when she suddenly turned over and kicked a leg out, hitting him in the shin as her curly head fell against her pillow and her hips remained angled awkwardly.

Draco reached his left hand out and gently pushed at her knee until her zombie movements rotated her waist in the opposite direction again as she was once more turned away from him. The small window behind the bed illuminated with a sparse ray of moonlight and with one eye lazily peeled open Draco glanced over to slowly trace his sight over the generous curves of her figure, Isla's small waist and protruding hip bone creating a luscious dip.

He turned over and slid his hip across the bare mattress until his larger feet tangled with hers and his body matched her silhouette. His chest pressed into her back and a large hand wrapped across her stomach as Draco held Isla close, his nose burying in the mass of blonde curls lying across her pillow. His warmth surrounded her and she tentatively stopped struggling in her sleep as his touch seemed to calm her, no matter what the circumstances.

Unable to properly communicate his feelings verbally, Draco did what he could to help her as he held her all night, drifting in and out of sleep as Isla groaned or flailed momentarily. It was all he knew to do to just be there for her, ineffective as it may have felt to him. When morning came, he tiredly blinked open his grey eyes as both his arms stretched, his head rapidly turning to look for Isla as his heart panicked. She was one the very far side of the bed, her thighs pulled to her chest in the fetal position as her back pressed to the cool wood of the bedroom wall, the sheets barely hanging on to her limbs as sleep continued to struggle with her injured body.

Pulling himself into a sitting position before swinging his legs off the bed, Draco wearily dressed for another cold day as a large yawn stretched his bearded lips. As he predicted, Isla stayed in bed the whole day. When she was awake, her shoulders were slumped with depression and saddening guilt but she shrugged away every time he tried to hold her or comfort her aching body. She would not let him touch her and Draco's heart tore but his resolve told him to keep trying. The only time he was 'allowed' to get close to her was when they were sleeping and even then she still struggled under his grasp unconsciously.

Their last two days of freedom in the sixteenth century were spent alone separately. Impatient with her rightfully morose attitude and stubborn laziness with the purposeful intent to not get out of bed, Draco icily told Isla he would be outside for the rest of the duration of the day and strode from the bedroom. He too was prideful and did not return until that evening when he was well past exhausted from a vigorous, final rehearsals and she was sound asleep once more.

William had snuck into the lounge to bring her food throughout those two final days and Draco was silently grateful for the dark haired man's unrelenting care for Isla. The night before New Year's Eve, she was still awake when he came in at the end of the day. Her back was turned to him as per usual but he noticed her damp hair and fresh scent of a bath as she wiggled under the sheets, unspoken words on her tongue as he continued to undress as if he had not noticed her state of alert.

"Tomorrow is finally here," she whispered into the dark when Draco crawled into bed, taking his perfunctionary position behind her as he slid closer until his bare stomach was touching the small of her naked back.

"Everything will be fine, love," he said tiredly as his arm bent over her waist and his large hand clasped hers reassuringly, their fingers tangling together as she lightly kissed his knuckles, his grey eyes shutting with sleep as she nodded to confirm that sentiment to herself. Sudden worry over their long awaited departure engulfed her chest and pushed away the sadness for a moment as Isla felt a tingling of anxious nerves work across her shoulders and down her spine. Draco shifted in his sleep and pushed a warm breath against her neck. Sighing heavily, she let her blue eyes slide shut as panicked dreams of their immanent missions replayed with various outcomes, several with failed attempts at different plans and a handful with a happy ending containing the blonde pair returning to their own century without a care or problem in the world.

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**A/N:**

**Yay! Thank you for reading! One down, several more to go. **

**Just because this is the home stretch does not mean I don't want reviews. Tell me what you thought of the chapter! It will help me better shape the remaining few and will give you a better story to read when all is said and written. **


	16. Part I  The Queen's New Year

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure.**

**Music for the chapter: "So Close" by John McLaughlin. **

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**Chapter Sixteen – Part I – The Queen's New Year**

"Did I forget to mention it's a masquerade tonight?" William said offhandedly, his attention on the stage as the last few pieces of scenery and props were taken outside for transportation to the castle. Draco was in the office going over the script one last time while Isla had ventured outside in the hopes of getting distracted from her sorrows, as if dressing for the gala later was not worry enough, and she was beyond surprised when she heard his words, curls bouncing as she glared at him with a sizable mass of nervous anxiety growing in her gut where small jabs of pain were not hitting her.

"What?"

"Oh yes," the dark haired, arrogant playwright responded as if she should know this already. "One event that the Queen throws every year is a masquerade and every year the party is different. I think we got lucky in our opportunity to attend such festivities."

Isla cocked one eyebrow, biting the inside of the corner of her bottom lip as her hand placed on her hips atop the black cloak and her plain seafoam dress. "Do we have masks?" She asked evenly, slight irritation marring her tone as William glanced over his shoulder at her with a sly grin.

"Darling. Look where you are standing." He laughed mirthlessly. "Of course we have masks. And there is a gown in your room that is waiting for you to put on."

Her golden eyebrows rose in surprise this time as her full lips parted slightly. "Oh?" She questioned lightly.

"Yes," William responded as he motioned to several movers across the stage. "You really should go get ready. We need to leave here in one hour's time."

Suddenly nothing else mattered as the nervous pull across her shoulders tightened and she felt as if ants were crawling across her skin. Isla felt her heart pick up its pace and she jerked her hips to turn around, walking evenly across the foreground until she reached the bedroom door. William smirked to himself as he heard her go, his jaw clenching and his dark beard twitching as he felt a resonating pang of jealousy.

The office was flickering with fire light when she walked in, Draco's blonde head bent over several sheets of parchment at the wide table in the corner as he attempted to act busy until Isla came back. He heard her enter and braced his shoulders but did not give any indication that he was aware of her presence as she quietly paced across the room. His long hair was hanging around his aristocratic face but he saw her shadow when she stopped behind his chair and placed a dainty hand on the corner of his jacket.

"Hello, love," he said with inflection without turning to look at her. Draco did not want to appear over eager or too concerned about her health because he knew his pestering could send her into vortex of emotions. "How's William? Ready for this whole event to be over, I'm sure."

Isla left her hand on his shoulder and let her fingers drift until they were slowly combing through his blonde roots at the base of his beck. "Oh he's fit to be tied at this point. I suspect he'll go bonkers if anything happens to go wrong tonight."

"Hmm."

She worked her hand, moving it gently until it was lightly holding his opposite shoulder, her curly head dipping as her waist bent so she could look past his frame to see the papers. They were all blank. Her neck rotated and her blue eyes darted to his face as she smirked, his eyelids shut as the trace of a smile turned up his lips, her hand massaging his tense muscles almost causing his knee to jiggle underneath the table.

When she stopped her motions, he opened his eyes and looked to her, his short exhales through his nose puffing against her chin in the close proximity.

"Are you ready for this evening?" He asked softly, his gaze jumping back and forth between her eyes as he silently awaited her answer, her slight sigh of nerves giving him a small indicator of what it would be.

"I'm ready to get this all over with, if that's what you mean," she replied, her blue gaze jumping up before dropping to the floor between them.

"We'll be home before sunrise," he reassured her, his left elbow pushing backwards before slipping around her waist to pull her against him awkwardly. Isla nodded into the curve of his neck and he placed a feather light kiss to the hollow of her collarbone as her arm wrapped around his shoulders and hugged tight.

Moments of silence passed as they held each other, slight noises and small sounds coming from outside in the theater as the remainder of props were sent off.

"We should be getting dressed and ready," Draco regretfully muttered against the column of her neck, his ashen eyelashes brushing her soft skin and causing her to shiver unexpectedly. Isla pulled back, standing tall and brushing her hands down the bodice of her gown as he pushed the wooden chair backwards and moved his hips to tower only inches over her.

"William said he was providing us with the appropriate attire and ... masks?" She stated hesitantly, her words trailing off as if she was trying to make a statement but wanted to ask it as a question too.

"Yes, love," Draco responded with a small smirk as his grey eyes crinkled. "Everything is ready for you, you just have to choose to wear it."

Something shifted in his chest when Isla frowned instead of grinning, her gaze turning away as her mind moved on to something else and her feet picked up to walk across the room to the bedroom door. Draco felt his small emotional capacity drain, his lungs exhaling in a heavy sigh as she opened the wooden door and slipped inside before shutting it with a small click. His body felt heavy from exhaustive worry and planning and his ass plopped against the wooden seat of the chair as his scratchy chin fell to his chest, his silver orbs shutting tiredly as the faint chime of a church tower signaled the early hour of the afternoon.

Minutes later the bedroom door was opening again and his shaggy head jerked up as Draco blinked rapidly, Isla glancing at him once as she pulled the thick bathrobe tighter around herself before hurrying past the fireplace to duck into the bathroom. He heard the distinct splash of water against the large metal pale then into the tub as she drew a bath. Knowing she would be several minutes at the very least, he shoved his body up out of the chair and numbly trudged around the medieval furniture as one pale hand reached out to turn the door knob as he stepped over the threshold and glanced around the bedroom. Isla's hand sewn gown was lying across the bed and one finger absently ran along the silky skirt as his eyes darted to an outfit hanging on the back of the door.

Draco quickly disrobed, clutching his wand as he fluidly performed several freshening up spells, and turned to grab the thick shoulders of the ornate Napoleonesque jacket, pulling the garments down as he sorted through the pieces and threw the majority of them to the mattress before bending at the waist to shove his thin legs into a pair of black, velvet trousers and buttoning them with a flourish. He donned the gauzy shirt and clipped the tiny pearls into place, sitting to tug on a pair of knee high leather boots with shiny silver buckles. His arms stretched and the heavy coat was a perfect fit as Draco stood and pulled the lapels of the jacket across his muscled chest to fasten the intricate clasps. He was picking up his sparkly, half facial mask when the doorknob twisted and he turned at the waist to see Isla come through the door, her blonde hair dripping wet as she rubbed a hand across the bottom of her nostrils.

She skirted around him and squatted near the corner to rummage through their pile of clothing to find a pair of knickers, standing with her back to Draco as she bent to slip one leg then the other through the holes and pull the undergarment up over the curve of her ass underneath the bathrobe. He held the ceramic mask between two fingers as his blonde head was turned to watch her movements, a frown pulling down his lips as he longed to wrap his arms around her and hold her until time ceased to exist.

"I'll be outside," he stated. "The carriage is leaving in a half hour."

He waited for her small nod of consent before he exhaled a sigh and turned, opening the bedroom door and shutting it quietly as Isla stood rigid, waiting for his departure for her shoulders to sag and her feet to blindly step sideways until she was flopping onto the bed. The bathrobe fell open and the pudge of her stomach rolled as her sapphire eyes shut and she let her back fall as her curly head landed on the silky black sheets.

_It will all be over tonight,_ she thought with finality. Images of their brief months in this century flashed through her mind and a wave of relief crashed over her anxious nerves, a hand reaching up to lightly finger the diamond pendant around her neck as recent memories brought a small smile to her lips before tears threatened to spill over her remembrance. Isla was genuinely excited to leave the 1600's but a completely different type of terror awaited her when they returned. She would have to face the consequences for the deaths of Celia and Henry Presston, she would be forced to come to terms with the awful actions she had taken to keep them safe and she would have to live with the fallout from their disappearances and time travel. Would she even have time to visit St Mungo's before the Aurors arrested her and drug her off to Azkaban, would she have any days to recuperate from the many injuries she had accrued over their journey? A jolt of pain in her abdomen alerted her to the resonating internal wounds as she rolled onto her side, knees curling against her chest as blue eyes swept across the bed and landed on the pale silk of her custom designed gown for the evening's masquerade.

Surely she was running out of time to get dressed and become even more strikingly beautiful but all she could think about was the panic inducing aspect of the night that involved their stealth and various Unspeakables training to procure the Queen's favorite necklace. The plan seemed easy enough when they had been outlining the details all these months but now the task felt impossible as she remembered her last trip to the castle and the resulting wound she returned with. _Tonight will be different,_ she reassured herself, one hand snaking across the mattress to lightly pull at the pale orchid plume of the billowy skirt. The dress truly was remarkable and she could not help but think that it had been in the stack of costumes sent from the seamstress several days ago. The wide skirt was made of a light lilac color while the stiffer bodice was a slightly darker shade of violet that encased the lace up corset and drooped low to create an elegant sweetheart neckline. Pale lace circled the collar and long sleeves expanded with a light silver pattern that appeared to move and jump with the movements of the dress.

A sturdy knock at the wooden door surprised her nerves and her blonde head jerked to look at the entryway as Draco's muffled voice seeped through the cracks.

"Isla? Are you almost ready? William's itching for the carriage to depart."

"Yes. Just a moment," she called and a swell of anxiety gripped her chest as she heard his light footsteps pace and watched his shadow move away from the door as he left her to get ready.

Her bare feet pressed against the cool floor and her hips widened as she balanced her stance, standing and quickly glancing around the room with wide eyes. Spotting a small leather pouch on the window sill behind the bed, she climbed across the mattresses to retrieve the item and paused to silently push open the glass as a chilly breeze swept into the room. Her ears perked for any noises and she hobbled off the bed when neither man waiting for her seemed to have heard the slight squeak. Her mind racing fast and her hands trembling with nerves, Isla grabbed the beautiful gown and placed her mask, wand, and a dainty pair of high heels in the middle of the fabric before rolling it all up as small as it would go.

Eyes peeled to the door, she waved her hand and the bundle shrunk until it was the size of a stone. She opened the mouth of the small, leather bag and hastily shoved the item inside, pulling the strings tight and knotting the loose ends so a small loop hung off. Both hands reached behind her neck to unclasp the silver chain and the metal pooled in her palm as she picked up the pouch and strung the loop onto the chain like a pendant. Fastening the necklace around her neck once more, the warm leather fell against her chest on top of the small silver bird.

Palms sweating profusely, she pulled at the lapels of the bathrobe until the plush garment fell to the wooden floor and she was standing in the cold room completely naked. There was nothing rational about what she was about to do but all rationality had flown out the window when she had kick started the chain of events that had catapulted these monumental emotions and actions. There was no turning back now and she had to act fast before her window of opportunity was lost. Closing her eyes and squeezing them tight, Isla blanked her mind of all thoughts, forcing out the depressing sadness that swam in the pit of her stomach and erasing the anxiety that was close to consuming her remaining spirit, and focused on the blurry image of her avian counterpart, her golden Animagus, as a soothing calm rippled across her skin where feathers appeared and arms became wings.

Amber eyes reopened to the stark difference of a black and white world and Isla spread her beak to whistle softly, her wings spreading shakily as she lifted herself off the ground to hop across the black sheets. The open skies beyond the window called to her like a harmonious melody and Isla felt no hesitation as her claws sharply gripped the wooden sill and she shoved off the outside ledge as a winter wind pulled her wide wings up and she caught a blowing current, the thin silver chain straining against the feathers of her neck as the leather pouch dangled.

"What is she_ doing_ in there?" William asked tensely, irritated as he impatiently waited with Draco against the stage for Isla to miraculously appear. He should have just gone with the crew to the castle, he knew it would have been better to be there before the actors arrived but he had foolishly decided to make a grand entrance with his supposed 'muses.' "Seriously, mate. Get her so we can go."

"I was just in there," Draco tersely responded. "She said she was coming."

William hmph'ed, crossing his arms over the bright and eye-catching designs of his jacket and cape. The blonde wizard rolled his grey eyes and turned his gaze to keep from revealing his utter disdain for the dark haired man, a sigh of relief escaping his parted lips when he heard dirt crunching underfoot as William turned and walked towards the main entrance. Few birds were in flight now because of the extreme weather conditions and his gaze jerked upwards when a burst of sunlight cast a small, swooping shadow across the bare stage and his gut clenched with a panicking tremor. One hand shielded his grey eyes but Draco could distinctly make out the recognizable feature of the hawk.

"Damn it Isla," he cursed too loudly and William paused mid step as he half turned to wordlessly query his nosiness with raised eyebrows and slightly wider brown eyes.

Draco caught his motions out of his peripheral vision and he glanced sideways as William waited expectantly for an answer.

"You go on ahead," he called to the playwright, pushing off the stage as his long strides ate up the dirt distance until he was hesitating outside the door into the office lounge. "We'll meet you there. She needs some coaxing it seems." The words were full of perfectly pitched lies and William eagerly nodded once before striding through the double doors to rapidly jump into the royal carriage waiting for them.

Draco turned the doorknob and threw himself into the darkened room as he quickly strode through the tight space to push open the bedroom door, his stomach tightening and his shoulder stiff as he sighed heavily and his grey eyes scanned the small, empty room.

"Damn it Isla," he repeated and his angry gaze caught on the open window, some relief flooding his veins when he realized her dress and mask were gone as well. "At least she's still planning on going," Draco said to the silent bedroom before cautiously stepping over the threshold and shutting the door behind him. He wanted to follow Isla to the castle but it would be near impossible if she was already in flight and if she was not intending to fly directly to the castle. Somehow he did not doubt that she would take a side trip over the countrysides or nearby forests to clear her head before arriving at the palace. Which meant that he was stuck waiting until enough time has lapsed to where William had arrived at the castle and it would not seem odd for him to be meandering about alone. Sitting heavily on the edge of the bed, Draco clutched his knees in both large hands as his blonde head tipped forward and his thoughts ran free.

Nerves were plaguing his senses as well but he was hiding them better as he calmly wore of a mask of blank indifference. Tonight would prove to be a tumultuous affair but he was willing to make a pleasant evening of the whole event while they were able until the time came for them to finish what they had started. Draco was tired of waiting and tired of hiding the truth and the time had finally come by which he was left with no other option than to admit his mistakes. But it tore at the seams of his once cold heart to think that he would ultimately be ruining Isla's life when the truth was outed and he was able to return to a routine without her. He had come to love and appreciate her in new and profound ways through his brief amnesia and Draco did not want to let those feelings and memories slip away as if they had never happened.

A sharp wind blew through the spare room and pulled the thin window shut with a loud bang, jolting him from his downward reverie as he jumped in place. Time had been of the essence since they had first spiraled back four centuries and Draco was not going to waste it now when he had so few hours left with Isla. _Better to be waiting for her at the castle than for her to have a fit as she looks for me at the party,_ he thought sardonically and felt for the wooden handle of his wand within the many layers of his jackets before impatiently giving up and freeing both hands expectantly.

Draco shut his silver eyes with a huff and he briefly pictured the short, dim hallway he had disappeared from last time he was at the castle as one wrist twisted and he felt the familiar tug from inside his navel as Apparation took him from the spot. His feet hit solid ground and confident he was correctly had at his destination, he opened his mercury orbs as his right hand fumbled inside the breast of his costumed outer jacket and he retrieved the plaster mask with sparkly silver outlines and intricate patterns. Tossing his long, blonde hair back over the collar, he pressed the inside of the mask to his face and stretched the strings around his head to tie them securely with a knot. He blinked through the holes, tentatively stepping to peer around the stone corner as various couples and groups of men and women ambled down the hallways to and from the festivities.

He stepped into the flow of people with little disruption as Draco walked down the halls behind a young couple teetering over their arrival to the Queen's gala, rolling his eyes at their nativity as they rounded the corner and were thrust into the entryway of the lavishly decorated Great Hall. Reminding him greatly of the room of the same name at Hogwarts, he was too astonished at the remarkable transformation that Marie had orchestrated to create a beautiful setting for the party. The stone pillars on both sides of the long hall were wrapped in elaborate gold frames that held small candles along the spiraling metal. Round tables were sporadically placed, paired with thin chairs that were covered in a shimmery silver fabric that accentuated an elegant, giant crystal rose that sat as the centerpiece. Red, gold, and silver paper lanterns hung from the ceiling and Draco was slightly marveled by the Muggles ingenuity. Surely there was a main attraction at the far end of the room by the glass windows but he could not see for the hundreds of men and women milling about in sumptuous ballgowns and exceedingly overdone jackets and trousers.

The variety of masks and facial coverings astonished him as well. Creativity was a factor in the design of each one and many women strutted by with feathers or a mesh netting covering their heads whereas a majority of the men were more subdued with simple half masks covering their eyes and noses. One man in particular stood out though as he was wearing a plain white mask that covered the entire right side of his face rather than the top features. Draco's blonde eyebrows quirked at the passing man and as if he felt eyes on him, the short, dark haired man stopped and glanced around suspiciously, a flowing black cape swirling with his movements.

Draco slipped through the crowds, politely saying 'pardon me' when an inebriated or over joyous party guest jumped across his path as he worked his way to the outskirts of the room. His mask effectively distorted his peripheral vision but he could still sense the women pausing when he passed, their roving eyes drinking in his tall, muscled frame and long, snow white hair. The air seemed fresher as he broke free from the mass of people and pushed out into the semi darkness of the cozier side walkways of the Hall. Various couples were pressed together in the shadowed recesses and he hastened his pace, keyly remembering that William and crew would be camped out in the room just off the right side of the long room.

A swinging wooden door drew his gaze and Draco glanced both ways as he pushed past a stone corner and nearly held himself against the wall as he stepped closer to the temporary dressing room.

"Draco!" Someone called and he stopped to peer around his close vicinity until he noticed William striding forward in a dashing black and gold jacket and trouser set with a flamboyant gold and silver mask. One hand was waving excitedly to catch his attention, his hips jutting sideways as he rudely brushed past several party-goers with a rushed flourish. "Isn't this great!" He yelled over the low rumble of chatter and mellow orchestra music.

His lips tightened into a forced smile as Draco nodded, blonde hair sweeping forward as he admittedly nodded. "Bloody fantastic," he replied.

"Where's Isla?" William asked as he leaned towards Draco as an older man drunkenly stumbled by.

"What?" The blonde wizard responded, his grey eyes turned away and his mind working quickly as one hand reached up to cup his ear as if he had not heard William's question.

"Where's Isla," he screamed again and a lull in the general level of noise in the room caused several people around the male pair to glance over their shoulders at his worried tone.

"She went to the loo!" Draco loudly said as the music picked back up and the nosy guests went back to their drinks and gossip. "Wanted to fix her hair with her mask or something," he lied. "Women," he added, shrugging his shoulders as if to also imply 'what can you do?'

William furrowed his dark eyebrows and even behind the mask Draco could see the suspicion in his dark eyes. Suddenly a dapper looking, auburn haired man appeared on one side and both men turned with annoyance as Vincent frowned and clenched his jaw.

"Marie is looking for you," he directly said to William. "They are getting ready for you to begin moving the scenery out." The red haired man briefly glanced at Draco before turning on his heel and disappearing into the thick crowd going towards the head of the room.

"I'm going to find Isla," Draco stated with the silence left hanging between the two men. William spared him a glance and a distant nod as he hurried to follow Vincent through the throngs of people. He was left standing there but moved to his left to go back the way he had just come through the Hall to work his way out to the main corridor where many people were milling about and fretting about an announced arrival. Draco bypassed the unnecessary nerves of the naïve party-goers and hastily walked away from the festivities in search of his blonde haired witch.

The flight had been frightfully cold but pleasantly uneventful as Isla beat her wings to the rushing air as she swooped lower through the thick trees of the forest surrounding the southeastern end of the castle, landing somewhat smoothly on an errant branch as she perched precariously and trained her avian ears for any sounds. Distant music from inside the castle could be heard but she paid it no mind as she peered at the tops of the stone ledges for guards or soldiers watching for party crashers. Sensing and seeing no watchmen, she jumped off the branch and swooped through the trees to rapidly approach the guard's walkway before dipping her feathered head down for a sharp dive as she pressed into the shadows and quickly transformed into a naked woman. Her hands were hasty to unfasten the clasp of the necklace to run the small leather pouch down the silver chain, reapplying the dainty necklace as she anxiously grasped the bag for dear life.

Flattening her palm, Isla pointed her right hand at the shrunken object and twitched her fingers as it enlarged to it's full size. Pinching open the mouth of the puch, her index finger slipped inside to pull out the silken bundle of shrunken clothing. The leather bag fell to the dark grass as she shivered in the wintery cold, jerking her wrist to undo the charm and then clutching tightly when the objects inside the dress threatened to explode with the enlargement. Shoes and mask were dropped to the ground as her wand found purchase in her trembling hands as Isla fumbled to slip into her gown. Her toes were almost numb in the soft layer of fresh snow and she shakily pushed her feet into the hard confines of the cream high heels as her hands grabbed at the insides of the sleeves and pulled the dress down into place over her blonde head. She felt frumpy but the corset was still unlaced so her wand hand bent behind her back to wiggle as the ribbons tightened and accentuated her curvy figure. Figuring her hair was a mess from her inability to run a brush through the curly mass, Isla's wand flicked up towards her head and a tingling rush followed the intricate moving and placing of hair as several beauty charms worked their magic.

_Mask means no makeup,_ she thought with a tinge of happiness as she pressed the ceramic mask against her delicate face and tied the strings behind her head. _No spells required._

Glancing both ways through the shadows to the moonlit gardens, Isla crept along the stone wall until she reached an open walkway. The hallway was empty but someone was sure to be nearby during such a celebratory event so she ducked around the sharp corner before grabbing the rocky railing and throwing her feet over the top as she hoisted herself silently into the deserted path. Her steps were light and quick as her breaths increased and she strode towards the sound of music and merriment. Turning left at an open intersection of hallways, Isla felt some nerves escape her crawling skin as men and women trickled past and she joined the pattern of movement until the herd led her to the main entrance of the Great Hall. Her blue eyes widened and honey eyebrows shot up as she was amazed by the sophisticated decorum of the massive room and the grandeur of the costumes and dressings of Britain's elite for a masquerade ball. The Pureblooded elitists of their century were nothing compared to the opulence of these men and women.

Suddenly realizing she was standing stupidly the in the middle of the mouth of the grand entrance, Isla cautiously scooted past a bumbling man and his irate wife as her sapphire eyes jumped around the room to get a quick look at every little detail of the event. This was going to be their last night here, in the sixteenth century, and they were sure to be going out with a bang. Not paying attention to where she was going, Isla stumbled onto the edge of the dance floor portion of the room and was bumped around as the alcohol induced party-goers flopped around as if they were actually showing some technique.

"Oh I'm sorry!" She exclaimed when a shorter, dark haired man bumped into her from behind.

His cape swirled as he turned and Isla inched backwards, stepping on the frilly hem of her poofy dress before catching her off balance and startling for an entirely different reason when his face revealed a vertical half facial mask, a la the 'Phantom of the Opera.' His beady eyes narrowed suspiciously at her unfamiliar face as she continued to back away.

"Miss," he called sternly when she turned to run in the other direction through the crowd of people and Isla halted hesitantly without looking back at him. "May I see your invitation?"

She glanced back when she felt the rude man just behind her and stuttered, "My - my husband has it. He's..he's just over there," she pointed vaguely and as he looked to where she was indicating, Isla hurriedly pushed past a dancing couple as panic flashed and adrenaline pushed her legs through the throngs of people. She dared not spare a glance to see if the masked asshole was following her and she flitted to the edge of the heaving crowd before skipping along the outside as her gaze wandered from her position on the left side of the long hallway across the gyrating mass.

Her blue eyes were peeled for Draco's snowy head, her heart leaping when a tall woman with the same haircut paused across the way before dropping disappointingly when she saw the facial features. Still moving through the room, Isla would stop every few steps to gaze around from a new angle before moving on as she continued to search for Draco, or at the very least, William.

Unable to find who he was looking for, _Why can't I just use a tracking spell_ he thought irritably, Draco trekked back into the loud, festive Hall, one elegant finger slipping under the seam of his mask to lightly scratch at the bridge of his nose. _All these Muggles and not a lick of sense between the lot of 'em. How hard is it to keep a party under control without letting your guests get drunk? This is ridiculous._

Agitated ramblings complete, Draco pushed the stiff shoulders of his costumed jacket back as he strode purposefully to the far edges of the crowds on the right side of the room and walked briskly down the shadowed alcove walkway. Distantly he could see the stage hands and crew members pushing out pieces of scenery as they prepared for the upcoming performance. William rushed out of the dressing room with his mask pushed atop his forehead as his eyebrows furrowed and he pointed an angry finger at one man as his mouth moved rapidly in a barking order. He was halfway up the room when the crowd of people in the middle of the Hall parted simultaneously and Draco automatically turned to see what was happening as his peripheral caught the motions and his steps slowed.

Across the way, Isla stepped past the split crowd without a pausing glance down the empty space. His jaw would have dropped dramatically if he had not clenched his teeth at the sight of her astounding beauty. Admittedly, Draco had put a hand in the mix concerning her gown's customization and he had specifically picked the light purple to accentuate her porcelain skin and breathtaking eyes. As if his thoughts reached out to her train of thinking, she glanced errantly over her shoulder but stilled when she saw him staring and a goofy grin naturally pulled up the corners of her lips. Draco felt his cock stir to life in his thick trousers and the fleshy member hardened slightly when Isla turned at the waist and mock bowed, her breasts spilling over the edge of her tight bodice as he got an eyeful of cleavage. She boldly threw him a wink, moving to continue walking on the opposite side of the room as Draco's feet followed her steps and their gazes stayed locked on each other as they paced in tandem, slowly approaching the front of the Hall.

Their heads dodged and angled when unaware guests got in their way and the blonde pair laughed in sync as they attempted to find the other past the moving crowds. Draco felt his chest tighten, his hands fidgeting to trace the curves of her body, his lips phantomly feeling her sweet kisses. They were so close yet still so far away, literally and figuratively. She was so absolutely beautiful that he could not take his eyes off her if he tried but the damned drunken, partiers kept getting in his way.

He frowned when he shoved a teetering woman out of the way and glanced around, unable to see Isla anywhere. The room was large but they were close enough that he should not have lost sight of her. Draco began pushing his way through the crowd of people, a tremor of panic rising in his lungs when he got to the middle of the dance floor and still did not see her. A light hand on his upper arm turned his blonde head and he fought a grin when his body fully rotated and Isla stepped closer, a widely bright smile on her lips conveying her utter delight at finding her partner.

"Care to dance, good sir?" She questioned and his lips tightened into a smirk at the light in her blue eyes behind the shadowed mask.

He produced an open palm, offering her his hand as she softly wrapped her fingers around his and his other hand placed lightly on her waist as she grasped his shoulder, pulling their bodies together as she met his heated gaze through thick eyelashes. Something seemed different about his face and she could not put her finger on it until her eyes traced the clean outline of his jaw.

"You shaved."

Draco grinned. "So you noticed."

Their feet suddenly moved to the slow rhythm of the orchestra as they danced a waltz around watching party guests. The music bleed together as the world dissolved around the blonde pair, several minutes turning into an hour before the maestro stopped the instruments and their steps halted, gazes still locked as they held each other tightly.

Near the front of the room, a shrill trumpet sounded and the attention of all was directed to the temporary stage as numerous candles along the stone pillars were extinguished to create a brightness directed at the raised platform. Off to the side, a curly haired man dressed opulently in a pompous costume unrolled a crinkled scroll and cleared his throat loudly before speaking, uttering the opening lines of _Romeo and Juliet_ as the audience quieted and allowed themselves to become enraptured in the tale.

"Two households, both alike in dignity,  
>In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,<br>From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,  
>Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.<br>From forth the fatal loins of these two foes  
>A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;<br>Whose misadventured piteous overthrows  
>Do with their death bury their parents' strife.<br>The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,  
>And the continuance of their parents' rage,<br>Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,  
>Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;<br>The which if you with patient ears attend,  
>What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend."<p>

A collective breath seemed to be sucked from the room as the people watched the lighting shift as Act I, Scene I progressed. Draco and Isla were standing with one arm wrapped around the other as they too watched their 'creation' come to fruition.

"Let's sneak around back to find William," Isla whispered against the shell of his ear and his mask rose slightly as one eyebrow cocked, intrigued by her idea and wanting to escape the thick stream of guests. Nodding his blonde head, his hand slid down her waist to cross the small of her back and grab her hand encircled around his hips.

Bringing the back of her freckled hand to his lips, Draco placed a kiss to her soft skin before squeezing her fingers. "Let us go."

He led the way as they wove through the mesmerized crowd, slipping past men and women standing on tables and chairs to get a better view of the stage. Draco felt her pause and he jerked his grip tighter, glancing back as she sped up, a tense, panicked look half concealed by her mask.

"This man's following us," Isla roughly whispered as her eyes widened slightly and her curly head indicated over her shoulder. Still moving forward, the edge of the crowd in sight, Draco peered behind her until he saw the dark haired, caped man strutting through the people. His thin lips were cocky underneath his unconventional half mask and the blonde wizard frowned as the thought fleetingly passed to toss a few spells his way.

"I know how we can loose him," he replied and Isla grabbed his hand with both of her own as his arm twisted further to pull her along with his stride. The people finally parted and they were thrust into the shadowed, open walkway of the alcoves as she glanced back to immediately see the arrogant man still heading right for them.

"Draco, he's coming! Hurry!"

"This way, love."

His hips turned and his feet picked up until they were dashing down the deserted side of the Hall towards the grand entrance. Just when Isla thought they were going to run straight into the stone wall, or go through it, Draco veered sharply to the left and steered her through an even darker archway before a sliver of pale light appeared and they ran past a swinging door into the secret servant's hallway. Yanking the door to a stop, Draco turned and pushed Isla behind him so he was facing the entrance back into the party, wand suddenly drawn as his even breaths echoed in the silent tunnel. Minutes passed and the door remained shut, very distant voices heard from the play but no mysterious stalker.

Draco lowered his wand arm and pressed his back against the wall, his free hand rising to pull of his mask as Isla did the same, her sapphire eyes dropping to the stone floor.

"We have to get the necklace soon," she interrupted the silence. "If we wait any longer, William will see us and become suspicious when we actually do disappear later."

Her words hung in the air and the realization that they were on the final leg of their mission, left only with the two most difficult tasks, before they would be returned to their century and reality. Months and months had accumulated into angsty and often tentative moments that were nothing but memories now as all their sufferings were forgotten at the first moment of the beginning of the last stage in the master plan. Instead of replying, Draco pushed off the stone wall and inched closer until Isla was now against the opposite stone surface and he was leaning over her face with enough proximity that his ashen eyelashes could have brushed her flushed cheek.

"You look ravishing," he drawled and his warm, sweet breath fanned across her lips with enticing closeness as a ripple of a shiver ran down her spine and shook her body lightly.

"Good enough to eat?" She responded with false innocence, wrongly referring to the literal meaning of another adjective as the hint of flirtation rushed her heart inside her chest and pulled up one side of her lips suggestively.

"You have no idea," Draco quickly quipped before his head tilted a degree and his full lips touched gently to her mouth with a strong resolve. Isla melted against his touch, somehow having forgotten the drug like quality of his kisses. Her small hands unclenched and grabbed the sides of his soft face, mask falling to the floor and shattering before his similar covering joined hers in pieces among their feet. Draco's hands grabbed the curve of her waist to propel her hips flush against his body, his arms wrapping around her back as if she could not get close enough to him. His mouth slanted and moved down across her jaw before peppering feather light kisses to the column of her neck as her dainty hands slid down their bodies to fidget with the waist of his trousers. When his lips pressed into the crease of her cleavage and his tongue slipped out and fingers twitched nearby to pull at the frilly bodice, Isla's blue eyes peeled open and her hands paused, her increased heart beat stopping Draco as his head fell against her chest and his shaggy hair tickled her bare skin.

"What is it, love?"

"Should we really be doing this right here?" She tentatively suggested and his sigh of an exhale was perceived as annoyance rather than the knowing noise it was meant to be.

"No. There is somewhere better," Draco supplied after quick thinking, a grin pulling his lips over his white teeth as his blonde head lifted and he straightened backwards only to grab one of her hands again as he turned and pulled her down the rest of the empty hallway to places unknown in the castle for acts unheard of under the Virgin Queen's rule.

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_To be continued..._

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**A/N:**

**Thank you for reading! Part II will be shortly coming as it is already mapped out inside my head and eagerly waiting to be written. **

**Also, 'The Virgin Queen' is a title associated with Elizabeth I because of her solidarity in ruling as a Queen without a husband and King. Of course she is rumored to have been just the opposite of that title but that is a story you can decide upon for yourself. **

**+ someone recently asked me about pronunciation of our female lead. Isla is pronounced eye-la, the S is silent or some shit. Just an fyi to anyone who's been wondering  
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	17. Part II  You Found Me

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure.**

**MUSIC for the chapter: "Give Me Everything" by Pitbull and Ne-Yo, "He Won't Go" by Adele, and "You Found Me" by the Fray. **

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**Chapter Seventeen – Part II – You Found Me **

The open hallways were deserted as the majority of the guests were inside the Great Hall watching the first rendition of _Romeo and Juliet. _Draco and Isla were able to easily move from the opposite end of the servant's passageway to quickly dash away from the low rumble of the New Year's celebration. Blood pounding in their ears and hearts rushing with excitement and eager arousal, the blonde pair galloped through the corridor until Draco once more jerked them to the left and pulled Isla through a darkened archway to gather her against his chest as his back pressed against the rough stone wall of the short, dead end pathway and he folded his lips to her mouth with urgency.

Isla's small hands tore at the intricate buttons of his costumed jacket, ripping the seams open as she snaked her fingers around his waist underneath the coat. His hands were pushing down the sleeves of her gown off her shoulders as their mouths remained attached, their eyes blindly closed as their roving hands did all the talking necessary. She tightened her hold around his midsection, pressing herself flush against his hard chest as their blonde heads moved in sync to their baser instincts. Draco could feel every curve, every dip in her body, even the stiff seams of the corset bodice were felt through his multiple shirts as they hurried to a sweet climax. Moving his feet so that their compacted bodies turned, he held her against the stone wall as his slight hands sought out her fingers, lacing their separate digits together before placing the joint fists against the wall on either side of her head.

When she seemed comfortable with the rough edges biting into her back, Draco removed one hand and pushed his hips back slightly to squeeze his fingers between their bodies to quickly unfasten the top of his trousers, yanking the material over his ass enough for his hand to grasp his cock and work it slowly inside the warmth of his pants. Removing that hand, he grabbed at the front of Isla's skirt and bunched up the material until the lacy hem was in his fingers and a slight draft blew past her bare legs. His mouth left hers and his blonde head bent to glance down as her free hand took the handfuls of silky material from his grasp so his fingers could lightly slap at her inner thighs as she spread her knees slightly and his hand wedged up to the warm apex of her legs. Isla stood on her tip toes when two fingers slid down the moist seam of her cunt before one thick digit pushed between her pussy lips to run up and down the juicy slickness of her inner lips above her hot opening.

Seeing no reason to hesitate any longer, Draco released both hands, one to firmly grasp the meatiness of her hip as the other tugged his solid cock from his trousers, thankful that zippers were yet to be invented, then pulling at her waist in an attempt to jerk her legs up and around his torso. They tried different techniques but somehow they were unable to get the positioning right until they gave up and Isla's cramped legs held her against the wall as Draco absently stroked his hard cock in the short distance between them.

"This won't work here," she stated dejectedly.

His grey eyes peered into the darkened corners of the sealed off hallway and a mischievous grin pulled up his lips. "Don't speak too soon, love," Draco drawled and she raised an eyebrow only to look after his directing gaze. Only a handful of meters down the wall was an odd recess that looked like it might have held a vase or small statue at one point. She scrunched her lips to the side, teetering to the indented space on her heels before scooting her ass over the ledge to lean back precariously into the alcove.

Draco followed her steps until he was standing in between her splayed legs at the perfect height for his thick cock to find her tight cunt. Pushing the heavy fabrics up her legs, Isla adjusted so the majority of the gown was tucked underneath her as she inched forward with her knees rising slightly. Taking that as his cue, Draco grabbed either side of her jumbling knees with both large, warm hands and she helped to close the distance by grabbing the lapels of his jacket. He wrapped one leg around his waist so his hand could hold his cock steady as his hips pressed forward until the fat head was sitting between her engorged lips and the pulsing center of her hot core tickling his peehole. Letting his hand rest at the base of his cock, Draco spread his feet wider and thrust his hips just enough after Isla dug the heel of her now bare foot into the small of his back. Her velvety tightness engulfed the only senses that mattered at the moment and Draco steadied his spasming muscles before pushing again as an inch of thick meat slid into her, a groan escaping his lips as her fingers clutched tighter at his jacket and a moan furrowed her honey eyebrows pleasurably.

With her inner muscles suctioning his cock, Draco easily slid the majority of his hard dick inside her hot cunt, a slow rhythmic thrusting beginning until his large hands snaked into the stone alcove to grab at her hips to pull her closer to his erratic cock. Isla was enjoying the sensations as the once overwhelming pain from her miscarriage was completely erased and instead replaced with a growing arousal that was quickly building to a strong orgasm as Draco expertly pulled her hips forward as his cock thrust into her then holding her in place when he jerked his hips backwards before repeating the motions. His movements quickened and she knew his climax was approaching faster than her own so Isla dipped a hand down her stomach and over the bunched up silks to lightly touch at her sensitive clit, gently rubbing it in circles as Draco's thrusts increased further.

Right when she thought this was going to be more of a rewarding experience for him than her, the sudden release of his hot seed inside her heightened pussy combined with the knowing touch to her clit sent Isla off the edge as Draco gripped the skin of her hips tight enough to leave bruises through the clothing and continued thrusting until his cock was spent and their juices were slipping out of her leaking pussy to fall to the inside panel of the back of her gown. When their orgasms subsided, his cock still fully sheathed within her milking cunt, their hands relaxed and grasped together atop the mound of silky fabrics covering Isla's midsection.

Draco's blonde head bent to tip forward until their foreheads rested together and their heaving breaths mingled in the concave space of the alcove, his lips puckering to gently press light kisses to Isla's mouth as their pair of eyes slid shut in satisfaction. One hand reaching up to hold the back of her skull, he tilted her neck up just enough for her to feel his intense gaze as she stared at him through spent, narrowed eyes.

"I love you," he whispered against the outline of her full, parted lips and her blue orbs widened a fraction as her gaze jumped back and forth between his silver eyes.

Stunned speechless for either reason, Isla let her jaw unhinge to open and close shortly as she understood the darkening of his irises was an indication of his honesty. "I love you so much," he repeated and the furrowing of his golden eyebrows and firm set of his lips showed her that he was speaking truthfully.

"But - but - you don't know me," she stuttered, a weak excuse as she felt his hips move slightly and his cock still inside her twitched as the aching muscles of her knees collapsed and her legs hung loosely around his waist.

"I know you better than anyone could ever imagine to," Draco quickly responded, his fingers lightly running up and down the soft curls at the base of her neck as the declaration resounded in her thick head. Isla dropped her gaze, allowing his gentle touch to envelop her senses as her mind spun with several realizations at once. Suddenly it did not seem as if his remembered words only days ago were out of place and his heated stare reinforced the idea that somewhere along the months they had spent in London, he had regained the precious memories they thought he had lost. Draco's over the top protectiveness now made sense as his blonde head angled to watch the passing emotions on her face.

A slight of misplaced anger bubbled in her chest, her small hands flattening against his hard chest as she pushed against his weight and Draco complied, pulling his wet dick from her tight cunt with a suctioning sound as her legs draped awkwardly off the short ledge of the alcove. Her blue eyes avoided his gaze as she lifted her ass to jerk the silken material of her gown out from underneath her while he slipped his cock back inside his trousers and flicked his wrist to magically refasten the broken clasps of his jacket. Draco stood with his head bowed, shoulders against the rough stone of the opposite shadowed wall as Isla hopped down, balancing precariously as her sweating palms smoothed the purposeful wrinkles of her gown.

"We should go look for the Queen's tower to find the necklace," she said, breaking the uncomfortable silence as Draco nodded once, his heart pursing in his chest as his mind reiterated over and over how stupid he was for pouring out his feelings at a seemingly appropriate moment.

"Hmph," he sounded, the irritated noise drawing her anxious gaze to his face with a slight questioning look. "What? Don't bother to tell me anything, you can just tie a leash around my neck from now on so you don't have to worry about informing me of where we're going," he spat and Isla felt the swirl of anger grow righteous as her fists clenched and her foot raised shortly to stomp softly.

"I'm doing the best I can to get us out of here."

"Yea - a whole lot of getting hurt and using me for sex. You're _really_ helping."

"Oh well excuse me, Mr. I-shouldn't-lift-a-finger-for-anyone-but-myself! I know this is all **my **fault but you could have at least done more to further our cause besides faking amnesia and spending your days with William!"

"Look at you, Miss high and mighty now that we're so close to escaping this hell hole. Don't you forget that it was **I **who won the role of Oberon in the first place so we would have the opportunity to be here tonight."

"Come off it, Draco!" Isla roared, her feet stepping closer until their intense gazes were inches apart, her words hot on his face as small spittles brushed his shaved chin. "I brought us here. So I had to find a way to get us out of it. William was my pursuer long before I dragged you with me from Scotland. I made this mess and now I'm fixing it. I am sorry that you were brought into this situation in the first place but at least now we know why our relationship can't work."

Draco's face blanked and his grey eyes lost their fight, his shoulders relaxing as a creeping, anxious panic crawled up his stomach and lodged across his chest.

"That's not what I want," he softly stated when she raised her honey eyebrows as if to question if he was going to respond. "I love you, Isla. I have since the first day I saw you strut into the Ministry as if you were already in charge. But this has all been too much - it's been one thing after the other and I just want us to get home before something else goes wrong."

She heaved a sigh of exhaustion as she too felt the weariness of their travels fall heavy on her shoulders. Her sapphire eyes had to drop from the intensity of Draco's gaze, the whirlwind of heady emotions behind his silver orbs overwhelming as her thighs slid back and forth with their combined juices and her teeth grabbed the fullness of her bottom lip to chew on it.

"A lot has happened," she whispered, distant sounds of merriment evading their serious discussion. "I don't know how to put the pieces back together but I do know I want you to be there with me." Her eyes rose to meet his gaze and Draco swallowed a lump of guilt as his hands dropped to his sides and his arms opened slightly.

"I'll do the best that I can," he mumbled and Isla fell forward into his arms as his large hands wrapped around her curvy waist to grip at the small of her back. "Do we know how to get the pendant to work once we have it?" He questioned against the intricate placing of curls atop her head, moments of silence having passed as they softly breathed in tandem.

Isla rubbed her straight nose against the rough fabric of his jacket and sighed with a heavy exhale. "I tried various spells on it but nothing seems to work. Some magic is not activated by words but by the thoughts and emotions of the user. Last time, when we were escaping the Auror in the forest in Scotland, I was praying that we would get out of there. Then we crossed the wards of the Manor and somehow the pendant worked. Our best guess would be to retrace our steps and hope the combined magics will work again."

The question of what happened if that didn't work died on his lips as Draco placed a soft kiss to the crown of her head and tightened his arms around her body. They did not have time to bother with the what if's; time was not something they were in great possession of and he was not looking to waste what little minutes they could still stretch out.

"And if not …." Her words trailed off hopelessly as if she could not bear to make the thoughts actual spoken word.

"Let's find that Tower then," Draco filled and the rumble of his speaking shook her curly head as she inhaled deeply the masculine scent of sweat and leather coming off his body.

Once they were ready to leave the deserted, dead end hallway, Draco peeked around the stone edges of the both corners, his hands fastening around Isla's palm as she waited against his back for them to move out into the main walkway. Turning his neck to glance at her, he brought one finger up to his lips to indicate silence as he stepped forward and pulled her along. Isla was completely confused on directions and would only be able to locate the west tower when they stumbled upon guards at the base. Luckily Draco knew where he was going and led her down a long, breezy walkway before pausing at the corner as she was propelled into his stopped frame. Glancing through the open archways down the adjoining hall, Isla could vaguely make out the white uniforms of the royal guard as two men stood in front of a large wooden door chatting amicably.

Feeling her tense behind him, Draco turned on his heel to face her as Isla's blue eyes were engulfed by the expanse of white eyeball as she stared at him widely.

"I forgot about the guards," she stated meekly with an audible gulp, fear showing on her delicate face as both blondes remembered her last encounter with the men in white.

"It's alright. We have this covered."

Isla knotted her eyebrows together and the sight of her breasts heaving in the purple gown nearly distracted Draco's attention, his gaze trained to her stare as he waved a hand and they simultaneously felt an invisible, blanket wrap around each of their bodies.

"But I can't see you," she whined and he reached a hand out until his touch found her and his fingers ran down her arm to grasp her palm tightly.

"Stay close. And don't make any noises," Draco instructed and Isla knew he had nodded his long, blonde head to confirm his words. She felt him turn and then he was pulling her once more as they rounded the corner and quickly paced down the stone hallway towards the unaware guards. They paused in front of the wooden door and Isla tugged on his hand as she jerked her shoulders inward to avoid contact with one of the men.

How were they going to get through the doorway without the guards seeing their movements? Invisibility worked perfectly for humans but it could not mask the opening and closing of a door when the handle needed to be turned in order to allow entry.

Draco bit at his lip, thinking fast as the man to their left leaned in with a loud laugh and nearly brushed his hand down the sleeve of his jacket.

"And then Marcus told 'im to shove off!" The heavier set man guffawed, his beady eyes shutting as his thick chest rolled with laughter.

He released his grip on her hand, feeling her immediately clutch at the fabric of his back to keep purchase on him, and pointed one hand at either guard before whispering a stunning spell under his breath as the men toppled over with dull thuds.

"Come on," Draco said and reached for the metal doorknob to push the door open just enough for them to slip through, shutting it behind them as the dim darkness of a spiral staircase loomed overhead, the faint outline of another door leading to the rooms of the first floor of the tower to their right. Still invisible to the naked eye, they intertwined their fingers as Draco took the first step and Isla followed closely as they wound their way up to the second floor. Bypassing the doorway that would have led into the Queen's private chambers, the magical pair climbed the remaining flight of stairs until they were standing on an empty landing facing a similar wooden door.

Isla stepped in front of Draco to grab the metal doorknob but twisting and pushing did not open the door. The heavy lock was in place and it rattled against the frame with each attempt to gain entry. Frustrated at the small inconvenience, she snapped her wrist at the handle and with a slight click the door kicked open of its own violation. Isla placed a foot in the short space, pushing the door wider until she stepped over the threshold and Draco squeezed in behind her, pressing the wooden door to its frame lightly.

He could hear the light patter of her feet as Isla paced around the circular room, astonished as her ocean eyes were glued to the shining jewels within the short, wooden trays covering several tables and dressers. The jewelry was arranged by sets and the similar stones and metals glittered brightly together as moon light fell through the two open windows and small wall sconces flickered with diminishing flames. Draco did not know where she had stopped or if she was still walking but the faint sounds of her breathing radiated from a smaller table as his grey gaze wandered around the room and his curiosity was piqued by the shining jewelry. Isla was mesmerized by an intricate necklace that held a trio of large emeralds in a cluster surrounded by medium sized diamonds that sat delicately on a thin, gold chain. A matching bracelet was laid out below the necklace and the equal sized gems shimmered enticingly. On the black velvet next to the green stones was a simple chain of etched silver that was realistically melded to form a large, open blooming rose. Her fingers itched to trace the detailed texture but her hand hesitated when the glare off a rock sized ruby caught her attention in the next case and Isla was reminded of the large pendant they were here to search for.

"Draco?" She whispered gruffly. "Where are you? Do you see the pendant?"

"Shhh," he responded, turning at the sound of her voice as a wooden floorboard squeaked beneath his foot. "I'm over here... By the other window." Isla shuffled across the circular room as the long window passed beams of pale light into the open space.

"Where?"

"Bloody hell, just shout for everyone to know we're here!"

"Sorry," Isla sheepishly mumbled, one foot bumping into the leather sole of his boots as a hand reached out to grasp at his elbow. Her short fingers weaved through the opening next to his torso and she linked her arm through his as Draco grumbled incoherently. Slowly they walked to each flat surface and peered down at the glass cases, reluctantly moving on to the next table when each container was filled with everything but the pendant of Ophelia.

"There it is!" Draco exclaimed louder than he intended.

Sitting alone in the smallest case, directly across from the entrance and with a burning flame right above the glass top, was the large amethyst. The gold plating still curled around the rough edges of the stone and the chain gleamed golden under the bright sconce. Isla dropped Draco's arm and rushed to grip the soft edges of the tall table as she leaned forward, her rushed breath fogging the glass as her nose inched closer to the cool surface. All ten fingers clawed at the wooden lid but it would not budge. Glancing sideways she noticed a tiny silver lock fastened to a simple latch and loop. Twitching her nose at the unnecessary precaution, the lock snapped out of place and fell softly to the velvet table top. Draco watched, his honey eyebrows knitted together as the wood and glass lid seemed to lift by itself, holding still when it was half open and the dainty golden chain was picked up and the large pendant pulled off the padding with a light swoosh. Just as silently, the lid was lowered and the necklace hung in the air before Isla spread the chain to fit over her head as the gem rested against her invisible chest.

"Now can we go?" Draco asked from somewhere beside her and Isla let her lips tug up in a soft smile as she nodded agreeably.

"Now we can go," she repeated but was reduced to panicked nerves when the doorknob jiggled softly before the door swung open to reveal a tall, white clad guard, sword unsheathed and at his side as he narrowed his gaze and peered into the empty room.

The dark haired young man slowly stepped into the Crown Jewels hiding place, staring across the room as the flames flickered the shadows across the stone walls. Draco was suddenly hesitant in his movements as he saw Isla smoothly back up until she was pressed against the rough surface next to the thick curtain beside the open window, the pendant swaying softly to convey her movements. The jewel was catching the firelight and dancing with color and he noticed the pendant flip over so the tarnished gold backing was facing outward and the item was less noticeable. The blonde wizard held himself in position, leaning his weight backwards and lifting a leather boot to take a step away from the approaching guard, one hand reaching for and grasping the handle of his wand as the intruder turned his head both ways to look around. The instant his foot touched down a step behind him, the floorboard squeaked and the uniformed man hastily turned towards the sound.

"Who's there?" He shakily called, his eyes quivering with his voice as he anxiously peered about the room.

"Who's there I said!" He repeated when there was no response.

Draco held his breath and prayed that Isla was moving in to attack. Instead both men heard a slight rustling before a loud sneeze erupted, jostling the curtains and attracting the guard's attention as Isla stiffened and placed a hand to her mouth and nose. Still unaware of the stolen jewelry, the dark haired man quickly walked across the room and swiped a hand out at the empty air.

"I know you're here!" He yelled, his fingertips brushing the bodice of her gown as she tried to press herself into the stone wall and rapidly reaching back to grab the tough fabric of her gown as Isla lightly squealed and a triumphant grin appeared on his face.

"Gotcha!" He exclaimed at the same moment that Draco raised his wand, pointing it at the white back of the guard as he vehemently yelled, "_Stupify_!" The young man turned just as he cast the spell and the magic ricocheted off the stone wall. He seemed to realize he was grasping at a person and snaked his arm around Isla's middle as he pulled her invisible body against his chest.

Looking down and not seeing a physical body but feeling one under his touch, the guard bellowed, "What's going on here? Show yourself!"

Knowing that Isla was likely to be in the way and preventing a direct attack, Draco stealthily moved around the edges of the circular room as the guard tightened his hold on Isla. She began to struggle in his hold and a smirk turned up the young man's lips as he recognized the curves of a woman.

"What's this?" he rhetorically asked with inflection as she fidgeted and his other arm let his slightly raised sword fall to the wooden floor with the sharp tip hitting the ground softly.

Taking advantage of the man's distraction, Draco paced quietly until he was standing to the side of the guard with his wand lifting higher as his anger boiled over.

"Do it," Isla whispered, sensing his nearby presence as the uniformed soldier paused with a cocky grin in place.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, lass," he chuckled as his forearm pulled Isla further against his torso and she felt the rising shaft of his hardening cock through the stiff fabric of his trousers.

"_Stupify!"_ Draco bellowed once more and this time the spell was not misdirected as the force of the spell hit the guard heavily at the base of his ribs on his lower back.

Isla breathed a heavy sigh of sudden relief as the man fell to the floor with a loud thud. "_Revelio_!" Draco roared and their invisible coverings lifted, his legs picking up to stride across the short space to gather her in his arms.

"That was close," she whispered into the curve of his neck as one large hand held her head against his blonde shoulder. "Now we need to go," she said, pushing her skull against his grasp as she leaned back to meet his silver gaze. "If one guard noticed the two unconscious downstairs, surely more will follow. We have to get out of here."

Pulling from his hold, Isla moved away from Draco and easily strode to the door that was barely resting in its frame, the pendant resting warmly against her soft skin as it began to pulse to life with magic.

"Isla," Draco said softly, his grey eyes silently pleading with her as he walked the few steps to stand behind her. She turned and smiled gently, her face brightening as her attention focused on him. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied sincerely and without pause, a small hand tucking into his open palm and squeezing tightly.

"Forever and always," he promised and brought their joined hands to his mouth, kissing the ridge of her knuckles as she blushed and her dark eyelashes fluttered across her rosy cheeks. She nodded, several loose curls falling over her shoulder as she twisted back to reach for the doorknob to lead them down the stairs away from the fallen guard.

Their feet were poised to step down onto the first descending flight when the sudden rattling of metal and the rustling of heavy footsteps echoed in the stairwell and panic flooded Isla's chest and wheezed slightly through Draco's.

"Someone's broke in!" A man yelled.

"Hurry men!" Another called and the blondes exchanged sharp glances before jumping backwards into the room and throwing the door shut.

Draco waved his wand and the thick lock slid into place as the rumblings of the encroaching security force shook the wooden frame with impending destruction. Not waiting for the troop of guards to bust down the door and discover their theft, he hastily moved to wrap his arms around Isla as she turned in the circle of his grasp. Her small hands slipped under his biceps and curled over his shoulders as she held on to him for dear life and Draco pressed his cheek to the side of her head, a tornado of heavy emotions blinding his senses as he smashed their bodies tightly together and flicked his wand behind her back.

The Apparation was instantaneous as their similarly shaded eyes blinked shut in the dim shadows of the Queen's jewelry room and reopened to the even darker, moonlit forest of Northern Scotland. Their feet stumbled on the uneven dirt of the woods as they separated, Draco clutching his knees as his lungs heaved loudly and Isla doubling over and grabbing her shaking joints as her throat constricted before widening as her stomach regurgitated what little was left in her digestive tract. The blonde wizard rushed to her side, placing a large hand on her back as she spit very unladylike into the pile of throw up at her feet.

"I'm fine," she hoarsely said, one hand reaching up to wipe across her mouth as her body began shivering. "I tend to get forcibly sick after a sudden Apparation," she mumbled and straightened as Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and she turned into his warm body.

"You're shaking," he stated rhetorically and as she protested, he quickly unfastened the clasps and slipped his arms from the thick, costumed jacket, lifting it to place on her shoulders before running his hands up and down her trembling arms.

"Better?" He asked softly and Isla nodded appreciatively, dropping her gaze as a slight blush rose to her cold cheeks.

Reaching down to grab his hand, Isla wove her fingers across his wide palm and intertwined their digits as she took a small step away from the smelly mass of bodily fluids. The moon was scarcely lighting the forests but her blue eyes took in every detail of their surroundings as she fully recognized the spot, Draco watching her with interest as she brushed off the random spurt of sickness to almost skip through the woods.

Her grip tugged on his hand and when Draco stood still and let her move forward, Isla glanced back with a coy smile.

"What is it? Now that we're almost done with all this, you want to waste time in the forest?"

Draco shook his head, traces of panic and fear mixing with the fast beating of his heart as he let the pads of his fingers press gently into the soft underside of her palm. He felt the crushing stress of their return press down on his mind and Draco pulled Isla back towards him as her short steps stumbled and she fell ungracefully into his arms. He held her shoulders to his chest and while she enjoyed the close contact, he was acting odd, even for his usual mood swings.

"Seriously, what's the matter?" She asked and Draco exhaled a heavy sigh as his hands clasped together around her back.

"I'm just glad to be away from London," he replied into the mass of curls hanging across her back_. Not glad to be returning to a harsh reality,_ he added mentally as a wave of anxiety constricted his lungs and he felt no shame in allowing a quick death to come in Isla's arms. Because that was how he saw his life once they time traveled back to the 21st century and she learned of his misdeeds, devoid of happiness and life without Isla there to comfort his silly tantrums and soothe his aching muscles after a long day. She was never going to forgive him when she found out about Astoria but he was not willing to ruin this perfect moment to spill his secrets and lies. His selfishness had proved fatal as of late and Draco was purposeful in allowing his greed to envelop the situation now as his lips forced up in a pleasant smile and he let his arms loosen so she could glance up at his face.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy," Isla said suddenly and honestly, a small hand faintly tracing his jaw as she tilted her head back slightly while angling it just enough for her lips to press against his mouth easily. His hands held her ass against his hips as his tongue slipped out to lick at the seam of her lips, his eager mouth pulling her kisses away as if he was mentally imprinting the movements for all eternity. Isla gave back just as well as she was given and matched her motions to his hasty, fluid actions, a warmth pooling between her legs as the slight jerk of her knees pushed the stiff outline of Draco's cock into her soft waist.

They parted, panting with unrequited lust as their dilated gazes met in the short distance and Isla shivered into his embrace with welcoming warmth. Feeling the point of his wand poking into his ribs, Draco fluttered his fingers behind her back as separate heating charms surrounded their bodies. Isla trembled pleasantly and a grateful smile pulled up one corner of her lips.

"Come on, dragon," she said referring to the nickname she had given him long ago, her chin digging into the fleshiness above his sternum as a growing warmth expanded across her bare chest where the pendant was humming magically. "Let's go home."

They turned to stand side by side, hands clutched together tightly, and began walking down the scarce trail through the thick woods, a biting cold wind whipping through the many branches and whistling with the slapping limbs. He was not paying attention to their path as he knew it would lead right to the edge of the Malfoi property and instead Draco was sneaking long glances at Isla as their steps progressed the trees began to thin until the moon shone brighter through the last line of wooden trunks. She yanked at his arm as her stride lengthened, ball gown growing dirty along the lacy seam as she hurried through the dirt and underbrush, and tugged strongly when the last trees gave way to the open fields expanding in front of the blip of lights that were the Manor on the other side of the expanse closer to the cliffs of the sea.

Isla could not contain her enthusiasm and increased her pace to a trot as Draco anxiously sped up to stay in line with her, his heart racing from adrenaline and nervousness. She started chanting in her head, _there's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home;_ pausing only to glance back as Draco's shaggy blonde hair flopped in the winter winds as he kept pace with her.

It was only moments before the pair was approaching the large, white boulder that signified the outer most point of the wards for the Manor, their feet halting as their lungs fought to keep up with their rapid movements.

"Now what?" Draco asked blandly, bringing a huge smile to bare her pristine teeth as the pendant hummed excitedly against her skin at the proximity to such strong magic.

"Now - we run. And hope this works," Isla added reluctantly but the burning heat from the necklace reinforced her gut feeling that this was what they had been waiting several months for. "Ready?" She asked, raising an open palm for him to grasp as Draco tightened his lips and nodded once, clutching her hand as she looked away and focused on the bright point that they needed to pass in order for the necklace to activate.

Squeezing his hand, Isla took a large step forward as Draco followed her movements and they simultaneously began charging forward. The pendant of Ophelia practically jumped off her chest and they moved faster as Draco held onto her grasp as if it was his only life line.

_There's no place like home. There's no place like home._

With one last leap, they jumped over the invisible barrier of the wards as the necklace exploded, engulfing them in a burst of light as their bodies swirled together and were transported through time and space, the area returning to darkness in a split second as they disappeared into nothingness.

**.**

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**A/N:**

**Ahhhhhhh! The end of another chapter. A short one but one that needed to be completed in order for me to move on to the next, most exciting parts! Thank you for reading and please leave a review so I know I'm not the only one enjoying the thrills of this story. **

**Obviously, the 'there's no place like home' line is from "The Wizard of Oz" and I claim no rights to that phrase or any association with that movie and story. **

**Also, big thanks to the _Queen of Mean_ for her wonderful and encouraging beta services.  
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**Hold tight kiddies, the rides about to get bumpy. **


	18. The Time Traveler's Wife

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure.**

_**Also, **_**MUSIC for this chapter is as follows:**

**"Mirror" by Lil Wayne and Bruno Mars  
>"He Won't Go" by Adele<br>"Wake Up Alone" by Amy Winehouse  
>"Forever and Always" by Taylor Swift<br>"Broken" by Lifehouse  
>"What I Did For Love," the 'Glee' version with Lea Michele<strong>

**All songs are on the playlist for the entire story at "www dot playlist dot com/playlist/22565231371"**

**.**

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**Chapter Eighteen – The Time Traveler's Wife **

Draco awoke with a start, his shaggy blonde head twitching as his silver eyes quickly peeled open as his aching muscles and the sharp, shooting pains along his left side alerted him that they had landed forcefully on the ground, somewhere, some time. The fresh smell of salty sea water hit his nostrils and the distinct sound of waves crashing loudly against a rocky cliff met his ears as he slowly emerged into his senses to get a feel for where and when they were. The ground was hard beneath him, faint wetness seeping into his clothing from scattered snow and his left hand was buried under something soft and heavy. Prying his fingers out gently, Isla's unconscious body rolled over so her porcelain face fell towards his mercury gaze. His limp hand unconsciously reached up to lightly check her pulse before sliding a finger under her nose to make sure she was breathing as well. His blonde head fell backwards and he stared up at the starry night sky as he hoped and prayed that they were in the right century. Obviously they had passed through the wards without a problem; the question remained if the pendant had worked its magic to carry them from 1592. Draco let his eyes slide shut as he willed the strength to get up and figure out their location before they got hypothermia and froze to death.

With slow, cautious movements he pushed his head forward until his neck too was lifted off the ground and his sturdier right hand pressed into the rocky earth to balance his body as his shoulders moved away from the ground and he achingly sat up. His blonde head was swimming with dizziness but he blinked hard several times as his neck rotated to peer behind them. In the not so far distance, Draco could vaguely make out the dark outlines of the shadowed Manor, the large estate completely devoid of life as evidence from light less windows and the dingy appearance. An enormous wave of relief washed over his shoulders and the anxious nerves in the pit of his stomach simmered slightly as the first hurdle was passed.

If Isla's logic was correct, then they were indeed back in the 21st century. Draco felt like a pressing weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he stared back at the Manor again to make sure he was appropriate in rejoicing. The blonde witch beside him groaned softly, her arm twitching as she unconsciously reached down to apply pressure to her abdomen. He could see the faint beginnings of bruises on her pale skin, the mangled remains of the pendant lying against her heaving chest, and Draco gritted his teeth as he forced his legs to stand, staying bent at the waist as his large, shaking hands slid underneath her knees and neck to pull her against his chest joltingly. Her body willingly curled into itself and Draco spread his feet further apart to steady his swaying stance as her curly head fell against his aching shoulder.

Unsure as to how he was able to support his own weight, let alone Isla's curvy frame, Draco inhaled then exhaled deeply as his silver eyes shut purposefully and he summoned his weak magic to Apparate them from Scotland to his cottage on the outskirts of modern London. Fearful of Splinching either of them, he held Isla tight as he envisioned the Apparation point in his manicured backyard and hoped the tugging inside his torso was taking them to the right location. His feet stumbled when they stopped swirling infinitely, his head thrust forward as his shaggy blonde hair fell in front of his face and Draco huffed from exhaustion as he blinked in their new surroundings and fought to keep from staggering under the dizziness of the instant traveling and their combined weight. In the pale moonlight he could see the overgrown grass and unmaintained bushes of his once luscious backyard, a faint path still visible where the large stones prevented weeds from growing up. Isla heavy in his arms, Draco stepped his right foot forward slowly followed by the left, then his right again as he steadily paced to the vine surrounded back door, watching his growing reflection in the shiny glass. He barely recognized the weary face that looked back at him through the slight mirror but Draco shook his blonde head and moved his lips silently to the words of "_Alohamora"_ and he felt his high-level security wards pull him through as he stepped over the threshold once the door gently opened. His modernized kitchen was full of shadows that eclipsed the features of the glass walled space, one wrist flicking jerkily to bring flames to the small candles around the large room. They were only passing through but the brightness of the sudden light comforted his exhausted mind as Draco stumbled through to the living room and continued down the wooden hallway, cautious of Isla's bouncing head as he turned a corner and finished the short walk to pause in front of his bedroom door.

His feet instinctively moved across the room, avoiding small tables and the sharp corners of the giant trunk in front of his bed, to gently bend at the waist as he placed Isla atop the mattresses and leaned over her unconscious form. Her curly hair fanned out around her head and the arch of her back kept her chest rising and falling noticeably, her pale skin glowing in the moonlight except for where bruises and scrapes marred her complexion. Draco watched Isla, sleep barely containing her consciousness as he wrestled with the truth that desired to be spoken but would ultimately destroy what little they had grown back. His silver gaze weary, the blonde wizard ran a hand across his lined face as he peered at the witch, her perfect curves and soft features causing a rise in his heart beat as his mind swirled with the endless possibilities for how the conversation would take place.

_I know we just got our lives back together but there's something else you should know..._

_I love you Isla, but another woman is carrying my bastard child. _

_It was never my intention but you see what happened was -_

Nothing he could think of sounded remorseful or even convincing enough to let Isla know that she was the only woman who held his heart and love. Draco understood that he had made colossal mistakes in the past but this one decision, this one vindictive verdict, was going to ripple across his life and into the happenings of someone else's. Someone whom he loved more and more by the second as she slept restlessly on his bed. Sighing to himself and letting his hand drop from gripping his jaw, Draco pressed his knees into the mattresses until he was squatting next to Isla, his nimble fingers reaching out and peeling off her intricate gown slowly as he pulled her body across his lap. His silver gaze fell on the thin necklace resting against her sternum and he lightly picked up the diamond pendant, fingering the rough surface before laying it against her rising chest once more. The corset was the most difficult piece to dismantle and after several minutes of silently tugging at the tight strings the gown fell open so he could slide it down her legs and let it fall to the floor.

On the bed, Isla turned on to her side and curled into herself, warding off the chilly atmosphere of the bedroom as her face pressed into the black silk comforter. Draco worked noiselessly, hopping off the bed as he leaned over the mattresses and tossing the many pillows aside as he pulled down the bedding, leaving the sheets open as he shifted to reach for Isla. Grabbing her shoulders delicately, Draco pressed his mouth next to the shell of her ear as he gently whispered, "Love, come on. We're home. Move up and get into bed." She stirred slightly, blue eyes blinking open tiredly as she gazed up at his blank face, nodding effortlessly before she leaned forward and half turned over so she could crawl up the bed. Draco placed his hands lightly on her naked body to help her move, letting his fingers slip as he held on to her wide hips and tightened his grasp on her sensible curves. Long legs bent and twisted as Isla blindly laid her blonde head on a pillow and allowed Draco to pull the silky sheets over her nude form as one hand fisted next to her face and she continued the even breaths of sleep.

Draco let an errant hand brush a stray curl off her peaceful cheek, his grey eyes narrowing in guilt and shame as she slipped further into the world of restful dreams. He could not move his feet so he remained standing beside the bed with searching grey eyes, the parted curtains allowing the night's light to shadow his tall frame. When Isla rolled over and stretched an arm out to the far side of the bed, his stretch of mattress, Draco's fretting heart jumped and he sighed heavily, hands removing from his trouser pockets as all his clothing suddenly itched. His strides were quick as he rounded the bed, walking to the door in the far corner of the room to enter his pristine, white tiled bathroom. The pile of clothing rapidly grew until he was standing stark naked in the cool lavatory, the thought striking to incinerate the garments and a moment later he was turning away from a smoldering mound of smoking ashes.

His bare feet curled against the cold tiles as Draco pried open the glass door of the shower and reached in to turn the handle as far left as it would go. Within minutes the transparent cubicle was leaking steam and he stepped over the ledge as scalding water burned his pale skin. Once he was under the stream, the minutes blurred until he was shaking his wet, blonde locks and blinking slowly at his reddened body. But the feeling still remained that he was unclean so Draco lathered and rinsed his hair multiple times and scrubbed his limbs with a fierce certainty until his fingers were numb and his legs were shaking with further exhaustion.

Stepping out of the shower and wrapping a fluffy towel around his lean hips, Draco's gaze caught on the raised, purple scar running up the right side of his torso. A finger traced the jagged line, the memory flashing in remembrance of the pain he had felt when the Auror blasted them with a curse just as they crossed over the protective wards. He would forever be reminded of the short months he had been allowed to familiarize himself and grow to love Isla even more. A scar to always retrace his mistakes and revisit the error of his ways.

The anxious pull of nerves tightened along the backs of his shoulders and Draco twisted his neck both ways, a light shiver rolling over his body as he pushed past the worried emotions. He snapped two fingers to extinguish the flames as he left the bathroom, silently shutting the wooden door as he padded through the carpeted bedroom to stand listlessly in front of the large oak dresser facing the base of the king sized bed. Quickly glancing up at the dark reflection in the mirror atop the chest of drawers, Draco's grey eyes paused on Isla's lumpy outline beneath the mounds of blankets. Her bright, curly head stuck out amongst the inky black bedding and for a scant moment, Draco was grateful for their return to the present. It may have been the only time he would be thankful for the magic once inscribed in the pendant of Ophelia, gracious for their safety without permitting his consuming worry to engulf his thoughts. He untucked the towel from his waist, tossing it to the corner of the marble top as he pulled open several drawers before drawing out a pair of emerald pajama pants and bending his legs to slip them inside as the elastic band snapped against the indented lines of his muscled pelvic bone.

Exhaustion was clawing at his mind but something kept Draco from crossing the room to slip into bed behind Isla. Something was gnawing at his thoughts, telling him that there had to be a way for him to have more time with the blonde witch, someway to keep her completely unaware of his dilemma until he had resolved the issue first. He had committed a grand mistake by attempting to do the right thing and now Draco intended to keep his promise to Isla of forever and always. Rotating his neck and tossing a glance back at the crumpled sheets of the bed as he blinked, Draco turned away and walked to the silhouette of the door frame before twisting the knob and exiting the bedroom silently as Isla rolled over and kicked her legs into the silky sheets.

The plush carpeting that ran down the middle of the wooden hallway squished between the long joints of his toes as Draco noiselessly padded away from the master bedroom to wander to the dim kitchen. His stomach growled in hunger but he knew any food that was there would more than likely be rancid and inedible, opting instead for a packaged green tea packet. Without thinking he grabbed the kettle from the stove top, pulling off the lid as he turned to run the faucet and fill the metal container with scorching water. It was only when Draco faced the burners once more that he realized he was so used to manually doing everything that he had forgotten about his ability for magic.

All too easily he flicked two fingers and flames burst through the iron grate of one burner, gently placing the kettle atop the fire as he opened a far cabinet to retrieve a large mug and peered into another before pulling out a jar of honey. Draco went through the motions, waiting for the kettle to sound before completing the preparation for his definition of the perfect cup of tea. His hand wrapped around the large, warm mug and he felt the liquid working its soothing powers as he slowly gulped down half the contents.

Walking out of the kitchen after securing the many clasps on the glass windows as well as the back door and gently extinguishing the low burning candles, Draco let his hips swagger as internally he was aflutter with anxious eagerness. The one thing that had been nagging at his fast paced brain since they had stumbled in and he had errantly glanced into each room as they walked through the house was the large pile of mail and unread newspapers from the entire length of their disappearance. The wizarding news awaited his grey eyes but Draco was hesitant to give the social media outlets any of his attention because of what he knew they had discovered about his personal life.

Surely Astoria had gone public with her pregnancy after Draco had mysteriously vanished off the planet, no doubt defacing Isla's name in the hopes of playing a grieving widow to a man vanished with his scorned lover. Turning the corner and entering the living room, Draco released a nervous exhale as the ceramic mug shook in his trembling hand. The mountain of white papers glowed in the dark room, the mouth of the fireplace on the left side appearing as a gaping mouth to the mounds of envelopes and loose leaf letters as Draco approached the scattered documents. Kneeling begrudgingly and placing his mug off to the side, he shoveled the mass of mail away from the fireplace's tile as he grabbed several logs, adding them to the grate before directing his silver gaze to bring jumping flames to the wood. The fire cast light to the moving images from several copies of the Daily Prophet and Draco shuffled through the most recent issues until a bold headline caught his attention.

_**Socialite Celia Presston Engaged to Scottish Qudditch Star Dominic O'Shaniganhan**_

Underneath the spiral title was a large photograph of the young couple as they posed for engagement photos beneath the shade of a gnarled oak tree, both clearly joyous as they smiled for the camera before staring dazedly into each others eyes, the action repeating itself every few seconds. Draco's face blanked as he clearly saw the memory from Isla's mind when she had killed the dark haired woman, his grey eyes staring in unbelief as he glanced at the date. The second week of December in what would now be the previous year. Obviously Celia was very much alive but his blonde head could not wrap around the possibility of that being true. She had fallen to her death shortly after her Squib of a brother, Isla immediately fearful of the consequences.

So how was she alive, and engaged apparently, when they knew otherwise?

Draco let the newspaper fall to the top of the pile as he stared, unseeing, into the flickering flames and tried to remember what little Isla had attempted to explain to him about time travel and the ripple effect of one action changing the course of history. His mind jumbled as pieces of thoughts ran together, beginnings of sentences like 'the necklace was in the house by the sea because it had been passed down through someone's family-' onto 'so it had been stolen sometime in the past and hidden away-' and 'if it had been destroyed when we left the 1500's and ultimately erasing itself from history-'. Until finally he came to the conclusion that their use of the pendant to time travel, thus using it's magic and obliterating the jewel, had reverted Isla's actions to the point where she and her partner had not stumbled upon the Presston siblings in that fateful house.

_It was all for nothing,_ Draco fleetingly thought as he fell backwards so his ass was pressed between the flexible bend of his legs as he sat on the soft pads of his heels. But ultimately the only choice they would have had to clear Isla's name of the deaths of Celia and Henry would have been to use the pendant to skip through time and to come back in order to destroy it. _At least that is one thing Isla will be happy about,_ he thought ironically with a sour punch as his full lips tightened and he refocused to riffle through the stacks of newspapers. His hands pushed through to the bottom and he grabbed for the oldest editions, searching for the issues with the news pertaining to the time frame just after they had vanished. As he pressed through the several month's worth of papers, his grey eyes avoided the headlines in fear of what he might see. Draco wanted first to see the press' reaction to their disappearance, then to see how long it took for Astoria to break the news. When he felt the thick fibers of the carpet beneath the stacks of papers, he pulled at the first bunch of issues he could get his hand around, thumbing through them until he found one dated about two weeks after he remembered they had left.

_**Draco Malfoy Has Disappeared; Longtime Girlfriend Missing Also**_

He skimmed through the brief article, skipping over the portions of the exaggerated article that insinuated the couple had run away to elope and various other, outrageous theories. Definitely not an issue to worry about but Draco tossed it, and the previous editions before it, into the licking flames as the fire grew momentarily around the incinerating paper. He paused to sort the mail into piles of letters and newspapers before riffling through the Daily Prophets once more. The first of what he was sure to be many headlines jumped out at him as Draco's stomach plummeted, all color draining from his face as he numbly stared at the bold title, dated October 30th, over a month after they had disappeared.

_**Malfoy Legacy Claimed: the Secret Love Child of Draco Malfoy **_

_As we have reported recently, the vanishing of Draco Malfoy has left Wizarding Britain in a flurry at the possibility of the historic family dying out. Claims are now surfacing that the notoriously handsome playboy has fathered a child. The woman in question, Miss Astoria Greengrass, insists that the infant growing in her stomach is the spawn of Malfoy and is demanding paternity tests to prove her accusations. _

The article went on to quote Astoria several times as she vehemently insisted that Draco was the father of her unborn child. Pictures of the pregnant and beautiful blonde witch followed at the bottom and Draco angrily threw the paper into the flames as he seethed. It was all production of his own misdeeds but he could not help but to want to obliterate anything and everything within his sight at the thought of that harping woman going to the press with their intimate news.

This left him with no other option than to admit his mistakes to Isla before they ventured out into the modern world and she was bombarded with the gossip of his affair. Nothing else mattered now that he was certain of the demise of their relationship and Draco did not care to search through the remaining month's worth of newspaper issues for random articles pertaining to his moral errors. Handfuls at a time, he slowly tossed the papers into the fire, waiting for the flames to die down before he threw more in to curl into ashes.

Against his better judgment, Draco hesitated with each bundle when the top issue contained a headline with his last name. Many were just small articles about his indiscretions but one from only a handful of weeks ago stilled his hand, caught his breath and pitted his gut even further down his body than he thought possible.

_**Lucius Malfoy Dies at Home, Alone **_

Draco did not bother to read the words following the jarring title, letting the papers fall from his grasp as he thought the sudden tightness in his chest would constrict his lungs until he passed out. Surprise was ultimately not an emotion that surrounded his new coming grief and Draco wondered if his father would have passed away if he had been there to coax him back to health. Hot tears sprung to his grey eyes and he dropped his gaze to the small pile of papers that remained, the prominent smell of ashy smoke clinging to his hair as his head dipped forward and his long locks fell around his face. Draco felt his heart grief harder for the lack of feelings he felt towards his last living parent's death than he actually felt for the passing of the Malfoy patriarch.

Lucius had not always been the ideal parent but his love had been shown through his various, albeit odd, gestures of affection. This was not the way any person should learn of the death of a family member and Draco let his chest heave in sadness for his missed opportunity to lay to rest the man who had raised him. The weighty exhaustion of his long day's events staggered his shoulders and Draco sighed heavily as he rubbed a hand across the lines of his handsome face, blinking slowly to regulate his senses before grabbing the remaining stacks of newspapers to throw into the fire.

Knowing the flames would either die out or smolder harmlessly until morning, Draco pressed his palms into the plush carpet as he lifted his tired body from the floor to slowly stand, his bare shoulders sagging under the news he had just learned and the events he had yet to replay to Isla. Neglecting to double check the cottage's locks, he walked out of the living room to patiently tread down the dark hallway, passing the rounded frame of his office door before he pushed open the entryway into his bedroom, his blonde head lost in tumultuous thoughts. He was distracted my his mind and ignored the breathing lump on his bed as he walked past the metal frames to approach the wide window looking out to the distant lights of London. Draco's limp hands weakly grabbed at the thick curtains to pull them shut across the foggy glass, a sigh resounding with the rustling of the fabrics as he adjusted them down the middle so no light seeped through.

Bare feet pressing into the plush carpet, Draco rounded the bed once more with the final intent to lay down. He lifted the silken edge of the bedding, turning sideways to sit as he pulled his legs up onto the mattresses and let the coverings fall over his body. Adjusting his long legs and bare torso under the heavy blankets as a slight chill ran down his nerves, Draco rolled onto his side so he was facing the middle of the bed, his silver gaze refocusing as he blinked rapidly to fully see Isla's sleeping face. His hip scooted across the sheets until he was pressed up against her side, her back rising and falling as she lay on her stomach. Without restraint Draco snaked his right hand up his body to reach past the edges of the blankets to lightly run his middle finger down the outline of her jaw.

Feeling a phantom touch through her semi consciousness, Isla felt the sudden jolt of alertness as her senses woke up and she pressed her eyes shut to take in her surroundings. Because she was fairly certain she was in bed with Draco beside her, no doubt in her mind as her body became aware of his warm mass next to her, Isla allowed one blue eye to sleepily peel open as his bright, blonde head came into focus and she saw the shadows of his mercury orbs.

"When are we, Draco?" She asked softly, sleep tugging on the cusp of her words to make her voice rough. Her hip moved underneath her across the bed, her body turning completely towards him as little space was left between their needy limbs.

"We're home, love. We're finally home," he whispered as his hand wrapped around her shoulders to bring their lengthy outlines together, their equally naked chests crushed intimately as Isla wiggled down so her curly head was tucked underneath his stubbled chin and she threw her left arm haphazardly over the curve of his ribs. He felt the gentle nod of Isla's understanding, her breath warm in short spurts against the muscled skin of his shoulder and upper chest. Their bodies melded and wrapped together, Draco felt the minutes pass slowly as Isla fell back into the trance like stages before sleep.

"There's news of us missing," he said when the silence became deafening to his alert ears. Draco knew Isla was still awake enough to hear him and he felt her long eyelashes flutter against his sternum as she shifted easily. "The Prophet was covered with wild stories of our disappearance the entire time," he mused and his calve twisted around her knee as her thigh pressed between his legs.

"Hmm," Isla mumbled against Draco's pale chest, her hand over his back coming to life as her index finger lightly traced up the ridge of his spine.

"And Celia was never killed," he hesitantly added as her body stiffened and her blonde head pushed backwards until she could press an elbow into the mattress to pull herself up halfway as she peered over his arm to stare into the outlines of his bedroom.

"What?"

Draco pinned his shoulder into the mattress as his hand fell to the curve of her waist. "When we left 1592, destroying the pendant of Ophelia, it reversed all your actions pertaining to the necklace. I'm sure it makes more sense to you than it does to me but it doesn't matter either way, we're back now."

"But how do you know she's alive? And Henry too," Isla stuttered as her blue gaze jumped between his silver peepers.

"The Prophet, love," Draco reminded her. "She's engaged to some Quidditch bloke."

Isla let her weight fall as her blonde head landed on the downy pillow. A million thoughts were racing through her now very alert mind as she blinked at the dark canopy above the bed.

"At least now you can go to your flat without worry of Aurors stalking you," Draco stated with sincere optimism.

"At least now we don't have to worry about being seen in public," she retorted as she shoved her shoulder across her body until she was once more snuggled against Draco's bare chest. The silence was filled with their light breathing until Isla broke the quiet.

"Do you regret any of it?" She timidly asked. "The time traveling and all," she weakly supplied.

"I don't regret it. I never regretted it," Draco responded cautiously, his grey eyes narrowing above her head as he felt a panicked guilt choke at his lungs at an otherwise implication. "How could I regret? I remember everything; even when it hurts, I still remember the pain across your face when I woke up in Scotland and had no idea who you were. I have nothing to regret other than not appreciating what a beautiful and wonderful witch you are."

Isla did not know what to say to such sincerity so her lips puckered and lovingly placed a light kiss to the whispy curls running down the muscled center of his abdomen, her straight nose rubbing against the soft skin between his shoulder and ribcage. She exhaled a sigh of satisfaction, her sapphire eyes sliding shut with the gentle swaying of happiness.

His timid fingers ran across the small of her back as Draco sighed with a soft exhale into the scratchy curls of her fallen do for the gala. Somehow, within minutes Isla was evenly breathing with an arm and a leg draped over his body and the other hand fisted fearfully between their naked chests. Draco let his pale eyelids fall shut, his mind that was shortly before racing slowing to a lull and his arm bent around her curvy frame unconsciously tightened as sleep tore at his consciousness.

"I love you, Isla," he muttered sleepily.

"Love you too, Dracooohhh," she automatically replied as their heart beats matched and the warmth of the king bed warded away the wintery coldness outside, physically and metaphorically trying to get in.

There was no indication as to what time it was when Isla awoke the next day. The bedroom was pitch black but she felt sweat running down her spine, her body inadvertently telling her it was time to get up. Draco was draped halfway on top of her and Isla had to gently lift his arm from her abdomen as she shimmied sideways from under his sleeping grasp. He stirred slightly but turned over onto his back, his hand across the rounding of his hip as his chest fell back into an even stream of breathing. The blankets were heavy coming off her bare legs as Isla slid off the edge of the mattresses, the room cool around her naked body as her stiff muscles and joints rotated with her straightening stance.

Draco snored slightly behind her but Isla paid him no attention as a resounding yawn spread her mouth wide and she blinked her blue eyes, squeezing them tightly shut as her bare breasts rose with the motion. His news from the night before came drifting back into her thoughts and Isla's chest constricted as she slowly stepped across the dark room, already knowing that they were definitely not in William's small bedroom_. Did it really work? _Isla hoped, trembling fingers hesitantly reaching for the seam of the curtains to let in some light and answer her question once and for all. The glass beyond the thick curtains showed a dreary, rainy day for London.

It did not matter though that the skyline was constructed of metal high rises and modern buildings, or that the Muggle's airplane was flying low overhead. Outside the foggy window, Isla could see the blurred outline of a giant oak tree and even through the hazy rain she could make out the charred section of the thick trunk where she had seared her and Draco's initials inside a heart in a moment of mind numbing infatuation. That was all the proof she wanted, smiling reluctantly as a sigh of disbelief left her parted lips. Now, it all seemed worth it for them to get back to where they belonged - in the twenty-first century and with each other.

Isla turned away from the open curtains, glancing at Draco, his long flaxen locks spilled on the pillow like a halo, as she approached the large dresser and rummaged through a drawer specifically devoted to her belongings. She fetched a basic bra and sensible underwear, slipping her arms and legs through the appropriate holes before striding to the closet door and opening it to grab a pair of trousers and one of Draco's smaller cashmere sweaters. The black material felt like heaven against her skin and Isla lightly shook her curly head and pinched her forearm to make sure it was all real. Bending to find a spare pair of boots that she knew she had left here at some point, Isla pushed her cold toes inside the fuzzy shoe as her feet were wrapped in the softest wool imaginable. Tucking the legs of her trousers into the calve high boots, she pushed past the open door, swinging it shut as she quietly tip toed to the bedroom door and slipped through a thin crack after noiselessly prying it ajar. The lock slid into place with an almost inaudible click, Isla's hand slowly pulling away from the metal knob as she rotated her hips and stepped one foot sideways to turn around and walk down the muted hallway. Her body felt rested for the first time in months and she did not hesitate to think that it could be early afternoon or evening now.

She strode into the living room, pausing behind the couch as she stared at the giant clock above the mantle_. 3:13._ Her stomach growled in hunger and Isla spared a glance at the folded up, daily edition of the Daily Prophet, turning to pick it up before tucking it under her arm as she walked down the hallway and into the spacious kitchen. Tossing the paper to the marble top of the island, Isla grabbed the dirty tea kettle and proceeded to rinse it clean and fill it halfway with water before replacing it on the stove top. She twitched her nose and flames arose underneath the metal pot, quickly heating the liquid as she opened a nearby cabinet to reach for a packet of herbal tea and a clean tea cup.

All her ingredients ready but still waiting on the water to boil, Isla turned and pressed her ass into the hard edge of the counter top, her blue eyes roaming over the dim kitchen until she spotted the newest edition of the Prophet. Her hips pushed forward and she took the handful of steps to hold herself against the island's ledge, one hand gripping the folded paper as the other flourished shortly and the vast number of candles were lit. Dropping her blonde head and turning her attention to the Prophet, Isla deftly spread the folded pages apart to lay the paper down flat with the front page staring back at her. Her gaze ran over the largest headline but it didn't make sense so she read it and reread it until misunderstanding turned into shock and her eyes roved over the article following the caption.

_**Mysterious Malfoy Wife Claims Fortune for Unborn Heir**_

_Since the death of Lucius Malfoy only weeks ago, speculation had been rampant as to how the family's fortune will be handled. The alleged claim of Astoria Greengrass as to the paternity of her unborn child was appeased yesterday when she provided court documents proving a marriage to the missing Draco Malfoy. The marriage certificate is dated from 28 September of this previous year and is signed by both parties and the required witness. Question as to why these documents have not surfaced before were unanswered by the Ministry of Magic. These findings may shed some light as to where Mr. Malfoy has disappeared to; perhaps a lover's admission gone wrong? Isla Brandt remains a person of interest as her whereabouts are still unknown at the current time. Draco Malfoy has long been known for his playboy antics and this situation seems to be no different for the missing millionaire heir, a battle of two women for the heart of a - __**Continued on Page 6...**_

What little happiness had developed inside her hopeless heart was crushed as the weight of a wrecking ball knocked against her chest. Isla blinked her sapphire eyes, dizzily scanning over the words once more hoping they had been jumbled the first time. The breath was stolen from her lungs and her stomach seemed to fall out as she realized she had not read it incorrectly.

Draco was married.

To Astoria Greengrass.

Isla's shoulders sagged defeatedly and it felt like a burden to pull air down her throat and out her nostrils in steady breaths. The glass walled kitchen spun heedlessly around her swaying frame and her fingers clutched the rough material of the papers edge to remain balanced, focused on something physical. The joints of her arms went numb and her legs would have turned to jello if she had not been bracing her hips against the counter top.

As if he had been drawn to her moving presence, Isla held her gaze ahead when the swinging door pushed open and Draco staggered through the entryway with a loud yawn, his pajama pants slung low on his hips and his muscled chest still bare. A grin tugged up the corners of his full lips when he saw Isla and he stumbled around the curve of the marble island to stand directly behind her. His torso pressed into the soft cashmere of her back and his slight hands snaked around her waist to fold across her midsection as his blonde head dipped and he rested his chin on her shoulder. Draco felt the rigid stance of her curvy body and his silver gaze drifted down to the spread paper, his eyes scanning the words before he too stiffened, rereading the short paragraph as Isla deeply took a calming breath. Her head rotated to the left, pushing her frizzy curls into his face as Draco awkwardly removed his arms and took a step back away from Isla.

When she turned to face him, one hand was still clutching the newspaper, her blue eyes riveted to the print as if the words could jumble around and say something else. Her whole body felt numb, shock neutralizing her emotions until the flame of anger caught wind and erupted inside her chest, frosty gaze meeting his slightly wide grey eyes as her lips parted to speak unnervingly soft.

"What are they talking about?" Isla said, each word pronounced distinctly.

Draco's stare flickered between her narrowing sapphire gaze and he felt like a student at Hogwarts all over again, being drug to the Headmaster's office as a Firsty for Potter's misdeeds. His pale hands fidgeted at the waist of his pajama pants and for the first time in many years, he was left speechless as Isla's temper visibly grew, a deep blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks as the Prophet crinkled in her firm grasp.

"I can explain," Draco said weakly, taking another step away from Isla as anger seemed to shake her body lightly.

"You can explain? You can **explain!" **She raised her voice, throwing the paper behind her to the counter top before opening her arms in a falsely calm gesture. "You _really_ want to tell me how you got some whore pregnant - then **married** her, _all before_ we got lost in time? No wonder you so openly despised me the entire time, you were dying to get back to the reality that involved your precious lover but didn't include me! My God, how could I have been so _stupid_! All those times you said you loved me, every time you fucked me - there were all just lies!"

"Isla, listen to me! _I do_ love you!" Draco exclaimed, his large hands gripping her upper arms tightly before she jerked out of his grasp and spun away, gripping the smooth corner of the marble top to stabilize her mounting thoughts and emotions.

"You didn't love me! You were just pretending!" she screamed.

"No, I wasn't pretending," Draco protested, his defined abs rippling as he squeezed his stomach and grunted irritatedly.

"NO!" she yelled vehemently, her foot stomping into the white stone tile as her blue eyes narrowed furiously. **"I wasn't pretending! **I wasn't hiding a marriage and a scandalous pregnancy and I _certainly _was not misleading you to believe that we would return and everything would go back to normal."

Draco's mouth was agape as his forehead tightened, his honey eyebrows cinching together and his hands dropping to his sides as a response was held from his tongue.

"Exactly," Isla proudly smirked, wrath boiling over as she drove her point home. "We left for Scotland on the evening of the twenty eighth of September. You had promised me the day before that we would leave but then suddenly - there was a pressing dinner you had to attend. Was it her, Draco?" She asked, her lips a thin line as she berated him with rhetorical questions. "Did_ Astoria_ need you so badly that you had to leave_ me_, alone in that small house, wondering what the hell was going to happen to me?" Her anger became exhaustive and overwhelming sadness, her heart tearing at the seams as hot tears pooled around the edges of her bottom eyelashes. "And now I find out that you weren't there because you were getting _married!_ Then you just come home to me like nothing's wrong, _pretending_ that you and I are in a solid, committed relationship. I guess it was a good thing you got hit with amnesia because it kept you from telling me your dirty, little secret." Isla paused, her gaze unfocusing before her chin quivered and knowing eyes turned back to Draco's agonized face. "But you were remembering a few weeks ago. Weren't you? You were getting back pieces of your memories until it all came together and you realized the utter pile of shite you were in once more."

Draco's blonde head was heavy and it dropped against his bare chest in defeat, her truthful words sending panicked nerves through his body. When he could bare to stand her heartbroken gaze again, his handsome face was sheepishly guilty and Draco hoped he was conveying the utter despair he was feeling for the consequences of his actions.

"I didn't want any of this to happen, Isla," he promised. She sighed heavily, an upheaval of her chest to keep herself from crying and letting loose the torrent of depressing sadness and dejection that was burdening her shoulders now. "It all just sort of - happened and then you got back from your mission, covered in blood and holding memories of killing two people. I didn't know until that night that I left you." Draco dropped his silver gaze, tongue heavy in his dry mouth as he thought through the right thing to say. "I wanted to do the right thing. I didn't want a child of mine growing up without a father or letting some other man raise them. I wanted to show responsibility for what I had done wrong. I _didn't know_ what was going to happen next. Or that we would fall through some time loop and be gone for so many months! I would have told you. I should have."

Isla turned her curly head away, brisk tears trailing wetly down her heated cheeks as her hips rotated and she left her back to Draco's gaze. Sobs wracked her curvy frame and she felt his approaching warmth and comforting hands before she could swat them away. She sprinted across the room, his touch burning her through her clothing as she angrily wiped away the salty tracks.

"And then what? I would have been your lover on the side?" Isla spat. "Or would I have waited for you to divorce her then come running back to you?"

"I don't know what I was thinking," Draco sighed honestly. "My actions were irrational but I hoped that you would understand my reasoning. I did not want a reputation associated with my firstborn child. I don't _want_ to be married to Astoria but I don't want to leave you either. This hurts me just as much as it hurts you," Draco admonished, as if her actions had inspired his arrogant gesture to marry the first woman who claimed he was the father of her child.

"You have **no idea** how this feels!" Isla roared, face blotchy from crying but with a fierce flame of anger in her ocean eyes. "Everyone thinks that I kidnapped you or some bullocks because of this **_whore_**! I know I fucked up with the whole time travel thing but this is leagues beyond that, Draco. My mistakes were somehow reverted and all I had to look forward to was grieving the loss of **our **child, with you by my side - and now, I won't even have that."

The dam of flooding emotions broke once more and Isla brought her hands to her face to muffle the painful sobs that were fanning the fire of her sadness.

"Please look at me, love," Draco implored, his voice nearby as he had silently moved around the kitchen to stand in front of her. Isla shook her curly head, backing away from his familiar scent and feel and touch and everything that was threatening to upheave what little contents were left in her stomach. His shaggy blonde hair hung around his long face, his grey eyes wide and giving the handsome, regretting man a sense of boyish, guilty charm that was not currently appealing.

"Don't call me that!" She barked, voice trembling as she tearfully blinked at his remorsefully handsome face. "Don't ever call me that again, you lying son of a bitch!" Isla stumbled when her shoulders hit the wooden curve of the wall and she glanced back, moving sideways towards the swinging door with agonizingly slow steps. He did not know what to do as Draco felt the air pulled from his lungs, his heart and chest heaving with each anguished word she spoke.

"I hate you," Isla whispered fiercely, her blue eyes narrowing as they dried slightly and her jaw set determinedly as her chin struggled to quiver sadly. "I hate you, Draco Malfoy, and I never want to see you again," she repeated a little louder but the words broke as a pained sob tore through her speech, her blonde head ducking as her shoulder pushed against the swaying door and she moved backwards through the entryway, sprinting down the short hallway once the wooden surface swung loudly in its frame.

Even from the distant kitchen, Draco could hear the sharp bang of the front door as she hurried outside before the distinct pop of Apparation told him that she had left. And probably for good. His knees buckled but Draco did not feel the sharp pain that accompanied his body falling to the floor. He leaned backwards against the heels of his bare feet, his face blank as he watched the light swaying of the kitchen door until it too stopped its motion and he was left in a silent house.

"What have I done?" Draco asked the empty room and his grey eyes slid shut heavily, a thick sigh exhaling past his lips as his shaggy blonde hair rustled against his shoulders. There was no going back now and he would have to face the music and keep his responsibilities held high if he wanted to keep his and Isla's reputations in high regard. Once she was seen in public, people would be pounding down his door to find out what happened and where they had been. His heart was shredded to pieces inside his thick chest but Draco was a Malfoy, he could put on his indifferent mask and act as if everything had been a misunderstanding and he was merely an excited, expectant parent.

Draco could put on a brave face and lie to the public. This was the mess he had created for himself.

Isla had Apparated to the front steps of her brick apartment building. Luckily no one was around as she crumpled against the rough stairs and sobbed into the worn surface. There would be no Aurors waiting for her or men asking questions about who she was. There was just the reprieve that she would be alone in her wallowing sadness to grieve the life and love she had lost. Too many emotions swirling inside her head, Isla looked up to glance around to make sure there was no one nearby before she shakily stood up and retrieved her wand from the tight waistband of her trousers. Draco's large shirt fluttered in the chilly breeze of the snowy street and Isla sighed exasperatedly at the small indication of his memory.

Clutching her wand tightly, Isla flicked the narrow tip expertly as she squeezed shut her blue eyes and hoped her next destination would prove to be more positively enlightening then the hellhole of lies she had just escaped.

Knowing the Apparation point was only in the knowledge of a select few, Isla was not surprised when the petite, redhead behind the glass counter was startled from her writing at her sudden appearance. Instant recognition lit the young woman's hazel eyes but she plastered a cheery smile to her bright face as Isla approached the counter, her roving gaze taking in the healing bruises and scratches along her revealed, pale skin.

"Hello Miss Brandt," the stranger knowingly greeted her. "Welcome to St Mungo's. What can we do for you today?"

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**A/N:**

**Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story from the beginning. You are troopers and I am glad this monumental chapter is finally complete. Two more to go. **

**Also, the lines between Isla and Draco about him pretending to love her and whatnot when she first confronts him, those are variations of lines from the movie "The Prince and I" with Julia Stiles. Graciously happy that those words fit with this story and could help me drive her point home. **


	19. Somewhere Only We Know

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure.**

**Music for this chapter is as follows:**

**"Somewhere Only We Know", originally by Keane but I prefer the 'Glee' version.  
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**Chapter Nineteen – Somewhere Only We Know **

Thom Mercade had received an urgent Floo at the Unspeakables office; he was the first person listed to notify when Isla resurfaced and he had immediately traveled to St Mungo's when news reached his desk about his partner's reappearance. He had barged into the private room, green eyes going wide when he poked his dark head around the nurse applying bandages and salves. The elderly witch had given him a nasty look, apparently blaming him for her many injuries that had yet to be explained. Isla looked worse for the wear but she put on a brave face as he sat cautiously on the edge of the hospital bed.

"What happened to you?" He questioned, concern blanking his face as his hands fidgeted with the coarse blanket in an attempt to keep from touching her.

Isla dropped her blue gaze and hot tears welled in her eyes as the recent events replayed in her head. Thom's curious stare was laced with pity and she loathed Draco even more for putting her in the middle of such a sordid affair.

"It's a uh - long story," she weakly supplied. The nurse gave her a reprimanding glare when she picked at a tightly wrapped cloth around her upper arm where her injury from the archer's arrow was still healing and Isla blinked several times as Thom waited for a larger explanation.

"Well ... where's Draco?" He queried, his head dipping to try to catch her stare without success.

"Probably off with his _wife,"_ she spat sadly, the salty tears falling down her cheeks as silent sobs shook her frame. Sniffling loudly, she calmed herself enough to fake a smile as she straightened her curly head but Thom saw through her emotional facade, their many months as an Unspeakables duo lending him some insight to her inner workings.

"What. Happened." His words were firm and precise, causing her smile to become a frown quickly. Isla's blue gaze held his worried stare for several minutes as the nurse puttered around the room, intently listening to their conversation while appearing busy, until she sighed tiredly and let the cavernous hole in her chest suck her sagging shoulders down, her eyes dropping to absently watch his thick, calloused hands inch towards her atop the blankets.

"It's a _really_ long story."

"Isla. You have to tell me," Thom insisted. "I'm not here to pass judgment," he stressed, his voice dropping and his fingers reaching for her wrists to imply his words. "I care about you."

"Sir," the nurse intoned beside the bed, drawing their attentions as she waited with her hands clasped behind her back. "I'm afraid you have to go. The doctor is on their way up."

Thom thought twice about arguing about his right to be by Isla's side but knew he technically didn't have any legal rights concerning her well-being and exhaled an irritated sigh before glancing back to the blonde witch's relieved face.

"I'll be waiting outside. When they're done, you're telling me everything." His dark eyebrows inched upwards and he fixed her with a hard stare as Isla gently rolled her sapphire eyes and nodded conceedingly.

His footsteps were softly heavy as he crossed the small room, pulling open the metal door before pausing to give Isla a pointed look.

"Sir." The nurse reiterated, her tone sharp as Thom eased his way out of the hospital room with a unnecessary forceful slam of the door. Agitated at his inability to find out any information, he plopped down into a snug chair just outside the doorway to wait for Isla's check up to be finished. The click clack of high heels preceded the female physician and Thom turned his dark head curiously as the woman in lime green robes sauntered down the hallway. He did not get up when she stopped in front of his chair but merely tightened his lips and nodded once as she smiled politely and let herself into the room with the resounding click of the lock.

It seemed like hours passed before the door was opening once more and the doctor and nurse walked out speaking in hushed tones. Their faces were not completely grim but something was pulling their delight away as soon as a smile passed their lips. They were barely out of the doorway before he was rushing past to scramble to Isla's bedside. He noticed that she seemed further saddened, her blue eyes staring blankly at her folded hands in her lap as unshed tears lay on the brink of her eyelashes.

"What'd they say?" Thom asked imploringly. She startled, looking up from her daze with an empty gaze.

"I'm fine. Just have to heal," she whispered and he fell to the edge of the small bed with staggering relief as his green orbs danced across her tilted face. He let her sit there for several moments, his eyes never leaving the angled planes of her facial features as Isla drifted off into her own thoughts.

"Are you alright?" Thom finally asked, her surprised reaction to his sudden query blatantly showing. Her lips twisted and scrunched, her nose twitching as she thought about the best response to such a broad question.

"I will be just fine once I get home and curl up in a corner in the dark."

"That's what I thought," Thom said, disappointment marring his tone as his dark eyebrows furrowed together. "I'm going to stay with you, help you get back up on your feet," he commanded, leaving no room for her to protest as Isla parted her lips to get a word in edge wise and he raised a hand to silence her. "You need someone there to help you through this. Let me do that for you. I have to make sure my partner is in peak physical condition before we go back into the field."

Wishing there was a way for her to say no but knowing he wouldn't listen anyways, Isla shrugged in compliance and kicked her feet out, falling backwards as she did so, to lay down and turn onto her side, facing away from Thom.

"Fine," she mumbled into the startchy pillowcase, his weight shifting off the bed as he got the hint and hovered over her prone form instead. "But don't expect me to do all your cooking and laundry."

Thom chuckled, his minty breath cool against the warm skin of her exposed neck as he leaned forward to place a chaste kiss to the edge of her hairline just above her left ear. His lips stayed next to the shell of her eardrum and Isla felt a guilty heat spear her nether regions as his achingly familiar and comforting scent engulfed her and she fought to dampen the anticipatory shiver.

"I wouldn't worry about that, dearie," he whispered huskily. "I'm usually in the nude at home."

She knew he was just being a smartass but his heated words brought a shameful blush to her cheeks as Isla clamped shut her blue eyes and prayed he would mistake her for asleep already. Thom removed his close presence and she waited for his footsteps to pause at the door, opening the entryway then exiting, before she rolled onto her back and sighed heavily at the blank ceiling. One hand rested on the rounding of her bruised stomach and the other rested atop her blonde curls next to her head as Isla prayed that those pain potions would kick in soon so she could escape the spiraling black hole that was her life.

As he promised, Thom was already moved into her guest bedroom and settled in to their shared living space when he retrieved Isla and brought her home from St Mungo's. Dismay was mingled with happiness at his barging intrusion into her personal space but Isla was ultimately glad that _someone_ cared enough about her to want to see her through the upcoming emotional battles and depressing bouts of grief. Because of minor internal injuries, she was required to take small amounts of a healing potion every day that sent her running to the loo soon afterwards, her body weak without the ability to keep down anything of sustenance. Thom was there every day with Isla, pretty much waiting on her hand and foot as their jobs were temporarily put on hold, both having enough money saved to live comfortably for enough time before they needed to return to the wizarding working force.

Days became weeks and as Isla slowly cried less every day for her broken heart, Thom became more and more of a security post for her most insane thoughts and fantasies. For his part, the dark haired wizard had always admired Isla's strength and beauty and he would be hard pressed to deny any accusations implying that he was consoling Isla for his own purposeful desires. He had grown to love the blonde witch over their various, lengthy and challenging missions and he had been utterly distraught when she had seemed to vanish off the face of the Earth. Since she had returned, Thom had vowed to do whatever was necessary to make Isla realize that he was a better match for her than any conniving, playboy heir could ever hope to be.

When Isla's birthday came around at the end of June, they had many reasons to celebrate and ultimately her positivity levels had mounted enough that when Thom leaned in to kiss her, desperately holding back walls of passion, she allowed her blue eyes to fall shut and to dismiss any notions that his lips were the slightest bit off. Their dampened spark of chemistry was reignited and Isla felt her body give in to desires that only weeks ago were forbidden and left her with a guilty pit in her stomach. The best friend she had so suddenly lost had been replaced by the man who had been her closet companion all along. Realizing that she could not permit herself to just jump head first into another relationship, Isla made Thom promise that their intimate emotions would take a slow progress towards something greater. The dark haired wizard had agreed, surmising that her openness to a new relationship would in the end entail his successful capture of her heart.

They were married the following Fall, almost two years after the time warping events had brought Draco and Isla back to the future, the beautiful autumn foliage creating a picturesque backdrop as Isla walked barefoot down a colorful aisle to meet Thom at the end with the minister. She would not have guessed that her broken heart would have mended so fast but the grinning wizard before her had quelled any doubts as to whether this was the right decision. When she said "I do", Isla smiled and reinforced her words with a soft kiss sent invisibly to Thom's bright grin. The guests in attendance had been small in number but Isla could not help but to feel goose bumps rising along her arms when she had exited the outdoor space with her new husband, glancing around quickly in search of the searing silver gaze that was threatening to break her happiness.

The arrival of their first child was joyous news for all of Britain, Thom having secured a prominent political position after working his way up the Unspeakeables ladder. Isla cried tears of delight when she laid in the hospital bed, holding her infant child. Despite all of the hurdles she had overcome, a tear fell for the sadness she had hidden all these years in remembrance of the blonde wizard her heart still yearned for. Time heals all wounds but time could not erase the memory of the love that had changed her life.

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><p><strong>Ten Years, One Month, Thirteen Days, Seventeen Hours, and Fifty-Three Minutes Later <strong>

**February 14, 2016**

The annual Valentine's Day gala for the Ministry of Magic was being held in a converted Atrium, various red, white, and pink colored decorations revamping the dark marbled tile of wizarding Britain's political stronghold. All Ministry officials were obligated to attend but that did not mean that Isla was not nervous for her eighth year of attendance at the ball. She was still self-conscious of her curves since the birth of her second child despite Thom's insistence that he would rather see her go naked than stuffed into an uncomfortable gown. Isla had smiled gratefully at her husband's passionate sentiment but she was still fretting over the detailed stitching and intricate ties of her corseted dress. The tight, mindless contraption was the only thing she could think of that would work to hide the excess weight she carried, foregoing the memory of the last time she had donned a gown with a corset laced into the fabric.

Isla had neglected to inform Thom of the more intimate details of her time traveling escapade with Draco so many years ago and her adoring partner was unaware of the consequences that would follow when he brought her home the customized gown. The deep crimson dress was tailored for Isla's curves but she had teared up when she first noticed the unassuming bindings within the fabric, her heart dropping when Thom opened the wide mouth for her to examine the gorgeous material.

Now, as she held the gown to her body with her elbows pressed into her sides, Isla wondered if it was too late to find another dress that would not reveal so much of her motherly figure. Thom entered their oval bedroom, his dress robes loosely hanging off his shoulders as his bow tie hung around his neck waiting to be fastened. She glanced up into the full length mirror, meeting his astonished green gaze as a grin spread the lips of his handsome face.

"You look ravishing, darling," Thom echoed as he stepped up behind Isla, his gentle fingers running over the bump of her shoulder blade as she shivered and blushed appreciatively.

"Thank you," she politely replied, eyes ducking as her wrist flourished to magically lace up the ties of the corset. Anxious nerves scaled her trembling muscles and Isla fidgeted with her curly hair to give her an excuse to ignore Thom's inquiring stare.

"Oh come on, love," he coaxed, his tan hands bracing her hips as he pulled his warm body against her back, his head resting on her shoulder as their gazes met in the mirror. "There's nothing to worry about. Once we get there, you'll be fine."

Isla nodded, his understanding of her anxious tendencies lightening her nerves as his arms clasped around her middle and tightened their hold. Her smaller hands laid atop his hairy knuckles and she leaned back in to his strong stance as they stood for several moments without speaking. Downstairs the old grandfather clock chimed the hour and Thom sighed, his dark head rotating for his lips to press a gentle kiss next to her ear.

"We should get going," he stated as he unwrapped his limbs from Isla's sides. "Rosalie is downstairs with the children."

She nodded absently, turning to walk into their closet to retrieve her intended jewelry from her vanity, applying the jewels before she paused in front of Thom watching her movements and deftly arranged his bow tie.

"There," Isla said, her fingers gently tugging at the black edges to secure the neck piece, a small smile turning up the corners of her full lips. "Now we can go."

The walk down their curved staircase into the main foyer brought further panic that Isla was not prepared for, pausing on the landing overlooking the grand entryway as she inhaled heavily and squeezed her blue eyes shut. Her body was overreacting to some subconscious thought and Isla berated herself for letting her nerves get the better of her. _It's just another stupid, boring Ministry function. I just have to suck it up for a couple hours and then I'll make Thom give them some excuse for us to leave. I've done this before, I can do it again._

Thom was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, her coat slung over his arm as he went over miscellaneous instructions with the babysitter. Their two, young children were lying on the tile floor before the large fireplace playing with errant toys as they awaited their perfunctionary goodbyes with their parents. Isabella's blonde head was bent over a new copy of _Hogwarts, A History,_ her eager mind reading as much as she could before she ventured off for her first years at the wizarding school. William's dark head was buzzing with nonsensical noises as he focused on the action figures he was strategizing with. Both children looked up when Isla approached, happy grins lighting their faces as they dropped what they were doing to put their attention on her.

"Mother, you look beautiful!" Isabella exclaimed, her wide eyes sparkling as she touched the fine silks of the crimson gown.

"Thank you, honey," Isla said with a gracious smile.

"Momma!" William called, his short arms reaching up to indicate he wanted her to hold him. Bending at the waist, Isla picked up her six year old son and his legs wrapped around her waist as he clutched at the lacy trim of her collar. Isla smiled genuinely at the small toddler and his curious blue eyes examined every inch of her done up attire until he stared smartly at her watching face.

"Momma where are you going?" He sweetly asked.

"They're going to a _ball,_ dummy," Isabella quipped earning her a quick glare before Isla smiled softly at her son.

"We're going to the ministry, sweet. We won't be too long, I'll be back in time to read you a story before bed," she promised as William grinned cheekily.

Thom approached, smiling happily at his small family as he pulled at the lapels of his black jacket and stood by the mouth of the fireplace holding Isla's coat as he held the jar of Floo powder in the other hand.

"Tell your da goodbye," Isla instructed and William wiggled from her grasp to run across the short space to clutch at his father's legs, Isabella just behind her brother as she lazily wrapped an arm around Thom's waist.

"And your ma," he ordered cheekily as the children turned and assaulted Isla with the same loving hugs. Rosalie stood off to the side, her slight frame almost hidden in the shadows as she watched the happy family and waited to tend to the children.

"We'll be back soon," Isla promised as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of the coat Thom held open for her. "Be good," she admonished, grinning pointedly at each child before she tucked her hand into the crook of her husband's arm and they stepped into the wide fireplace. "Love you," she called to the young pair as Thom tossed a handful of shimmery powder to their feet and called "Ministry of Magic!" Their children swirled out of sight as their footing stopped spinning and she looked up to gaze through the golden grates of the black fireplace.

Music and loud conversation was brimming from the Valentine's Day gala and Isla clutched anxiously at Thom's arm as they stepped out into the flow of arrivals and were pushed through the arched hallway to the mouth of the Atrium. The entire, massive foyer had been transformed and now looked like a mythical Cupid had exploded across the entire room. Where there was not something red or white, a flourish of pink brightened the space. Various witches and wizards of varying political and social standings were milling about, dressed to the nines in their finest garments and robes as a small orchestra played in the corner and many men and women danced fluidly in a large, open space. Isla felt her nerves abating as she took in the outrageous festivies, Thom pulling in her one direction as he spotted a Minister's Aide he wanted to speak to. She rushed to meet his gait as they walked around a curve in the circular room, brushing through chatting couples as she smiled politely at passing acquaintances and was grateful for Thom's insistent desire to talk politics at a frivolous event.

A flash of bright white just yards down the parting crowd paused Isla's even breathing as her blue eyes picked through the people to make sure she wasn't seeing things_. I haven't seen him in ten years, what's changing that now? _She thought, reassuring her jumpy mind that once more Draco was not there watching her when she thought she had seen him. Blinking rapidly, Isla tilted her head to listen better to Thom's conversation with the elderly Aide while still keeping her eyes peeled to the shifting mass of people. Not a second later her gut dropped when the glowing blonde head slipped through the crowd, walking towards her with his face turned down.

There was no mistaking that the man was Draco but Isla fought the realization as he still did not seem notice her and he was very clearly within eyesight and approaching faster as the distance diminished. Panicked, Isla hurriedly glanced around for the short blonde head of his socialite wife Astoria in the hopes of dismantling the inane theory that Draco was going to finally single her out in a crowd after all these years. Relief rushed down her fluttering nerves when the blonde man in the entirely black suit suddenly turned to walk into the thick of the crowd and she smiled stupidly at her presumptions and moved to lean into Thom when the mystery man rotated his pale head.

The grin was frozen on her face as Draco's heated silver stare met her gaze. The moment was fleeting as he was pushed through the crowd but Isla held the surprise in her chest at the blatant anguish and shockingly broken despair seen in his grey eyes. She watched his blonde ponytail disappear into the zealous mix of people, jerked back to reality as Thom tugged his arm forward to get her attention.

"Bored already?" He loudly whispered as his dark head bent next to her face.

Isla tightly smiled, forcing her blue eyes to narrow from their wide gaze held across the room.

"Oh, you know me," she retorted with more forced cheerfulness than necessary. "These things bore me faster than reading one of your political speeches."

"Ha. Ha," Thom sarcastically laughed, his green eyes twinkling as he held his wife close. "I guess we better hurry up here then. We have to make our rounds and rub some elbows but after that -" he salaciously scanned the plunging neckline of her gown, pausing for dramatic effect and earning a grin and raised eyebrows from Isla before he continued in a husky voice, "I want to slice that gown off you and kiss every sweet inch of your delicious body."

"What are we waiting for then?" Isla retorted breathily, his warm breath on the column of her neck sending all traces of her recent eye contact with Draco out of her mind.

The married couple remained with an arm wrapped tightly around the other as they moved through the party guests back towards the entrance of the Atrium, stopping the briefly chat with various witches and wizards as they made their way around the back of the room. The orchestra changed tunes and the gentle melody of jazzy song reverberated around the high ceilings as the minutes turned into an hour and the gala went into full swing. Thom was thoroughly engrossed with talking to the Minister for Foreign Relations of Magical Creatures about the possibility of a rare breed of unicorns in the Italian mountains and Isla was growing anxious for entertainment as the Minister's wife had disappeared with a gaggle of drunken witches. Spotting a passing waiter with a tray full of empty champagne flutes, Isla leaned in to whisper quickly into Thom's ear that she was going to find them some drinks and pulled away to disappear into the thick crowd.

She followed the immaculately tuxedoed waiter through the throngs of people until they reached the front of the large room and saw a wide table displaying beverages and bite size appetizers. Realizing that she would have to cross the dance floor to get to her destination, Isla slipped through the dancers to weave her way to the other side. She was halfway through the gyrating crowd when a firm hand latched onto her forearm and stopped her movement, her curly head twisting to bark at the errant man until her blue eyes went wide and the grasp on her arm was suddenly searing.

"Hello, love," Draco quietly greeted her, his grey eyes skipping between her sapphire orbs as he took in her reaction to his sudden appearance.

"Draco," Isla breathed, her body reflexively turning towards him as dancers rushed around them and his hand slid down to hold her wrist. He looked good, seeming to have only aged slightly by the indicating, deep wrinkles around his grey eyes and full lips. He was still the man she had given her heart to almost fifteen years ago and she still lost the ability to breathe and think coherently when he stared at her as if she were the only woman in the room. "What are you doing here?" Isla asked stupidly, the first phrase popping into her mind jumping past her mouth as he smirked characteristically. She blushed when she realized the simplicity of her question, her blue gaze faltering as she quickly glanced at the tile floor.

Draco did not answer, instead clasping his largely familiar hand around her fingers as his other hand grasped the back of her waist.

"Dance with me," he stated and Isla felt she had no choice but to place her trembling hand atop the padding of his shoulder.

The orchestra slowed their music and a gentle waltz echoed across the room as the blonde pair began the memorized steps. Isla kept her gaze looking just past his blonde head and she fought to not stare at his handsome face as she felt Draco's silver eyes boring into her. The gentle grasp of his hand on her waist tightened and she would have shivered from the heat radiating from his touch if she thought it wouldn't make his smirk that much more triumphant. Twisting her head to peer around the massive amounts of people, Isla spotted Thom's back to her as he animatedly discussed policies with a small group of men. Disappointed that her husband was not searching for her after having left his side several minutes ago, she turned her face towards Draco but allowed her eyes to bore into the buttons at the top of his cream shirt.

"There's not a day that goes by that I don't regret my decisions," Draco roughly whispered in the short space of their attentions.

Isla's heart was caught as she jerked her gaze up to meet his imploring mercury eyes, her lungs steeling as her mouth gaped in a silent, stunned response. She too had not gotten through a single day since she had last seen the blonde wizard where he did not cross her mind.

"I was stupid for thinking that doing the right thing would be the best decision for all of us," he muttered honestly, Isla's curious stare locked on his silver gaze. "Nothing was more conducive to my well-being than you; and I let our relationship fall through the cracks of morality and trust."

Hot tears bubbled along the lower lashes of mascara as Isla sighed heavily, adjusting her grip on his shoulder as she rotated her blonde head. The music continued as their expert feet hovered around the dance floor, their many years together resurfacing as their bodies moved in tandem without instruction. As the minutes wore on and Draco held Isla close, her sapphire eyes blinked shut in his comfortable arms and her mind drifted, floating back in time to memories that were so similar to their current positions that when she opened her blue orbs again she would have sworn that they would be surrounded by hundreds of masked men and women in medieval fineries. Somehow her blonde noggin had rested lightly against the curve of his shoulder, their bodies pressed together intimately as she felt Draco's warm breath fluttering against the soft curls at the base of her neck. They were barely moving to a light sway and Isla felt a stab of guilt as she held the smooth lines of a lean man's body that was not her husband.

The soft melody ended, her conscious kicking in to tell her that their proximity would not be an ideal situation for anyone to take notice of as Isla gently stepped away from Draco but let his hands stray hopefully on her hips. Putting her hard learned resolve to the test, she blinked once and let a small, polite smile pull up the corners of her lips. Sensing her desire to walk away, Draco held her waist tighter and let his grey eyes search her cautious face.

"Come with me," he instructed quietly. "We should talk."

Isla shook her head, glancing over his shoulder as if she felt someone watching them. Across the room, Thom stood next to the refreshments table, his green eyes wide and disbelieving as he took in the sight of his wife holding her ex-lover intimately. Panic welled in her chest at his surprised face and she turned back to Draco with saddened regret and a pulsing desire to get away from his electrifying touch.

"I can't - Draco, I just can't," Isla hurried, removing his hands as she pushed past his tall frame and ran into the crowd of dancers.

"Isla!" He called, turning to watch her hurry away as his heart pumped loudly, beating rapidly and seemingly ready to come out of his chest with each step that took her further from him.

She could not find Thom, his dark outline disappeared from the side of the room as Isla sprinted from Draco. Tears were spilling down her heated cheeks and random party goers stared in wonder as she brushed past several groups of people to make her way to the entrance of the Atrium. The hallway out of the Ministry was almost deserted as everyone was reveling in a night free of responsibility and Isla had no trouble rushing into a wide fireplace, grabbing a handful of Floo powder and calling her destination before spiraling out of sight.

Her lungs were heaving with pent up sadness and her heart was breaking under the reappearance of a flame she had long thought she was past. Not knowing what she would do or say when she got home and saw Thom, Isla prayed that their living room was empty when she returned home in order to have a few minutes to collect her thoughts.

"Isla!" She heard Draco yell before the fireplace worked its magic and carried her away, her blue eyes squeezing shut to keep out the image of his pained face in order to properly carry her, once and for all, from his consuming lies and into the life she had created with the broken pieces of her heart.

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**A/N:**

**Yayayayay! Thank you for reading. **

**Find me on Facebook for up to the minute updates on this and all other stories. search for "samantha luckythirteen jane"  
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**Only one more chapter to go and this story will be over. Look for the Author's Note at the end of the final chapter for some upcoming, exciting news about forthcoming new updates and stories. **


	20. The One That Got Away

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, or ideas relating to or pertaining to the world of Harry Potter and JK Rowling. I graciously thank JK for her life-changing works and our ability as faithful readers to use her creations as our own for pure fanfic pleasure.**

**MUSIC for the chapter is as follows:**

**"The One That Got Away" by Katy Perry  
>"Back to Black" by Amy Winehouse<br>"She Ain't You" by Chris Brown**

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**THIS IS IT. THE FINAL CHAPTER.  
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**Chapter Twenty – The One That Got Away **

Draco Malfoy spent a week in hiding once they had returned and Isla had left him. He drowned his sorrows in bottle after bottle of Firewhiskey, waking each morning to clean the disastrous mess he had made of his house the night before only to destroy it all again once he had a drink or two and had sunk back into a clouding depression. As he had assumed, various reporters and nosy cameramen snooped around his house after news broke that Isla had returned and was in St Mungo's. He waited every morning for the newest Prophet to arrive, heralding her clean bill of health after proclaiming her statement of lies as to where she and Draco had been. On the final day of drinking away his pain, he had opened the paper to see a flashy picture of Isla leaving the hospital, Thom Mercade steadily by her side as they avoided the eager crowds waiting to catch a glimpse of her face.

Seeing that she had moved on, even if it was just with another man as a friend or companion, Draco allowed his inner demons to surface for one last day as he tore apart the house with no intentions of repairing it again. He had not pestered Isla with owls or random Floos, although he had gotten to that point many times throughout his days at home alone. He vowed not to contact her until he had solidified proof that they could be together with no other responsibilities. Draco remained angry though, irate that she had the power over him to just walk away without his usual consequences and was given further incentive to maim his small house in order to destroy any place she might call home and one day return to.

The small cottage would have burnt to the ground if Draco had not had a change of heart when watching the giant pillars of smoke float into the sky. Memories were held within the charred remains of the house and he fell to his knees in the middle of a half burnt room, painful sobs wracking his body as hot tears fell to the sooty floor and he pounded his fists against the ashy tile. Draco performed all spells necessary to restore the house as best he could before he walked to the Apparation point and turned around, glancing one last time at the building that held the strongest remembrances of the life he should have had.

He had traveled straight away to Malfoy Manor, briskly pacing through the grand foyer and through the numerous hallways as he heard the small pop of Apparation of a house elf. Draco did not pause to see which creature was following him but continued working his way through the estate until he reached the back doors and strode outside into the crisp winter day. There was no one behind him as he found his way to the family's private cemetery on the back of the property. Generations of Malfoys had been buried there and the earth was still freshly plowed where a newer grave existed.

Draco found Lucius' headstone and stopped in front of the marker, his hands coming around with a procured bouquet of white lilies to place in front of the stone.

"Oh Father," Draco mumbled, staring at the inscription until the ultimate realization hit that he was the eldest and only living member of the Malfoy line. The entire family rested on his shoulders now and Draco felt the burden as an additional load to his already wearied, guilty conscience. "What will I do now?" He asked to the empty graveyard, the wind howling in response as a biting breeze tore through the chilling, gated plot.

His fingers were numb and his nose was surely frozen when Draco finally returned to the Manor. Fredrique, the head elf, was waiting for his rearrival, shaking with anticipation for his chance to speak with the new Lord of the house.

"Sir," the small creature wheezed, large brown eyes blinking up at Draco as the blonde wizard removed his heavy coat and silver scarf. "Would you care for some hot tea? Maybe a bowl of stew or a warm supper?"

He had nodded absently, waving off the elf's questions with a distracted hand as he walked away towards the large library.

"Yes. Bring it to me in the office in a half hour."

Draco entered the cavernous hole of books regarded as the Malfoy library and easily strode through the tall shelves to search for the several tomes he knew were tucked away concerning the wizarding law. Maybe there was still a way for him to redeem his misguided actions and win back Isla's affections. Carrying half the stack and levitating the rest behind him, Draco sauntered to the rich office just down the hallway, arranging the many books on numerous tables and empty surfaces as he spent the next few days pouring over the materials. _Not a goddamn answer in a single one of these bloody books, _Draco thought angrily when his hope of escaping a loveless marriage quickly diminished, his arms swiping at the heavy volumes until pages lay tattered on the carpeted floor. He sunk into the large leather chair behind the enormous oak desk, holding his shaggy blonde head in his calloused hands as he pitied the man he had become. He wanted to blame Isla for his indiscretions, pass the buck off to her for instigating the irate mood that had sent him off to Knockturn Alley for a night of obliterated drunkenness so many months ago. But he knew the only person he could loathe for the heedless actions of his dick was himself.

Ultimately surmising that he needed to follow through with his original intentions of caring for his unplanned child, Draco penned a short missive to his long lost wife and tied the folded parchment to the leg of tawny owl, instructing the beautiful bird not to stay for a reply. All he had to do was wait and even that did not take long as soon, the fireplace adjacent to his desk exploded with a green smoke and a very pregnant Astoria waddled out from underneath the mantle. She was by no means ugly, quite the opposite to the point where most men found her attractive, but Draco could not help but to feel repulsed as she smiled wickedly and slowly walked to him.

"Draco, darling," she greeted, leaning forward and pressing the rounded bump of their unborn child into his midsection as she dutifully wrapped two short arms around his stiff arms held rigidly at his sides. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Well I tried my best," Draco muttered and if Astoria heard his remark she made no indication of such as she pulled back and stood tiredly in front of him, one hand holding her back up as the other rubbed her protruding stomach.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of finally being able to see you?" She sweetly asked, tilting her snowy blonde head to the side and Draco thought he would vomit from her false niceties.

"Since you are my wife," he began in a slow drawl, his honey eyebrows raised and his grey eyes narrowed in condemnation as he arrogantly mocked the witch. "I would assume that you are going to be moving into the Manor with me."

Astoria smirked remarkably similar to his own trademark facial expression, one pale eyebrow cocking as she nodded once. "Since you are my husband, you assume correctly."

Leaning forward to brace his weight on the edge of his sturdy desk, Draco sighed heavily at the thought that this woman would be around for the rest of his life. Possibly shorter if he could help it. "Our private quarters are in the east wing and your suite has already been prepared for your arrival."

"Are we not sharing a bed then?" Astoria asked with modest surprise, her light blue eyes widening slightly at his insinuation of traditional, fixed marital arrangements.

Draco chuckled, irritation hidden as he visibly examined the witch he had signed his name to, his muscled chest rumbling at her expense. "Hardly. You will have your private chambers and I will have mine. No need to insinuate that this marriage will be more than what it has already become: something of convenience."

Astoria bristled, glaring down her nose at him as her arms folded across the mound of her pregnant stomach.

"Do try to show some class though, Greengrass," Draco drawled, his attention turning to several papers in front of him as he glanced back up distractedly. "Our personal life does not need to be spread across the columns of gossip rags in order for people to notice you. You'll get enough press as is once that demon spawn is born."

The wooden doors creaked, capturing their gazes as Fredrique poked his large head through the sliver of an opening. The elf had his wide lips parted, his knobby knuckles wrapped around the edge of the door as he prepared to speak before Draco abruptly cut him off.

"Take the new Lady of the Manor up to her rooms, Fredrique," he ordered. "See to it that she has everything she needs."

"Yes sir," the creature responded and Astoria huffed as she waddled away from his desk to the waiting elf.

"Oh. And, love?" He rhetorically called, her silvery blonde head rotating to toss a questioning glare at his arrogant smirk. "When we're out in public, we will look the parts of a loving couple. Speculation does not need to be made and revealed that our union is a loveless sham."

Astoria stilled, her blue eyes widening slightly and her bow lips tightening as he processed her startled reaction. Guessing that she was no longer under the impression that she could somehow change his stone heart and earn his love and trust, Draco dropped his shaggy head to absently reread a document as Astoria regained her senses and shuffled out of his office.

He did not see her for almost another week. Draco holed up in his office, scarcely leaving as he worked his way through the many shelves of his father's secret liquor cabinet, smashing the glass bottles into the hearth of the fireplace when he had drained the last drops of alcohol. The doors were expertly locked after Astoria had attempted to barge in on his self wallowing the day after her arrival, Draco wanting no part of a harping wife when he could barely wrap his head around the concept that his life would no longer include Isla. Days turned into months and when the New Year came around again, Draco drunkenly promised himself that this year would be better, this year he would not make a colossal mistake that would fuck up everything he had worked for. The bottom of the empty glass told him that he had only himself to blame but Draco could not bear to realize that his absence at the birth of his son, his disappearance from the Manor at the most inopportune moments in his first child's life, and a string of other valuable events he had somehow missed were all unplanned side effects of his one life-changing decision.

For all the scorn and hatred he placed on her shoulders, Draco was admittedly impressed with Astoria's level of willingness and drive to keep him involved with the infant Scorpius and keep him updated on the outside wizarding world. She knew he had the Prophet delivered every day but he still glanced up, sighing heavily when she opened the office doors every afternoon and traipsed in to perch on the edge of one of the chairs in front of his desk, dramatically regaling one tale or another from her most recent shopping excursion or outing with the child. One weekend when she had taken Scorpius away to visit her parents on the Continent in Paris, Draco felt his days to have grown longer without the anticipated arrival of his estranged wife to deliver errant news. By no means did he enjoy her company or want her presence but he had grown accustomed to her visits and somehow, in some desperate and needy way, he saw those moments as the bright spots of his days.

Months later he had procured the location of Isla and Thom's wedding and intended to crash the joyous event and dissolve their relationship. It wasn't that Draco didn't want Isla to be happy, he just wanted her to only be happy with him. Once he had Apparated to the outskirts of the large estate, the wards temporarily removed for the wedding, Draco cloaked himself in order to be able to sneak past the small gaggle of guests and search for the bride. He did not have to wait long as Isla steadily paced down the makeshift aisle, a radiant smile transforming her beautiful face as she progressed towards her soon-to-be husband and a boulder dropped through Draco's gut. She actually looked _happy._

Invisibly mingling with the guests as they proceeded after the happy couple down the aisle, Draco caught Isla's worried sapphire gaze inadvertently as she turned away, not completely realizing that the man she was searching for was watching her from just a few feet away. Holding himself to his inebriated promise, Draco silently left the gathered crowd of well-wishers, Apparating back to the Manor with a new crack in his heart and a new set of plans concocting in his mind.

When Isla never returned to the working Unspeakables force, Draco knew he would be safe in assuming that he could retrieve his old position without worry of running into her in the black marbled hallways. Blaise had welcomed his old friend back with open arms but warned that he would be remanded to paperwork for a long time until he was deemed fit for the field. Draco had accepted what he could get and transferred his long days in the office at the Manor for tedious hours in the office at the Department of Mysteries.

Years passed and Draco became content with the patterns of his life. When he was not emerged in work, he was happily watching Scorpius grow up. Somewhere along the line, he and Astoria had come to an unspoken agreement about their sexual interactions and the couple fucked casually as if they were complete strangers having a one night stand each time one or the other stumbled into their partner's bedroom and then left to walk down the hallway back to their own rooms. By no means had their marriage evolved into a relationship of the traditional sense but Draco and Astoria were comfortable with the amicable partnership they had formed.

Still, when their paths crossed and he was able to catch a glimpse of her when she was unaware of his presence, Draco basked in the brief seconds of uninterrupted spying as Isla went about her daily business. She always looked as beautiful as a clear sky on an early morning sunrise and his lungs continued to still in his toned chest when he caught sight of the blonde witch who still captivated his all encompassing thoughts. He was not surprised when he learned of the birth of Isla and Thom's children, Draco had known their nuptials would lead to procreation eventually, but it hurt nonetheless and his heart cracked along the pushed together seams of his twisted love.

Draco knew that when the time was right he would be able to approach Isla without hesitation and confess to her the passionate yearning that pulled the strings of his heart whenever his thoughts wandered and he was enveloped with their past. He knew that one day he would find her in the middle of a crowd and sweep her off her feet and erase all thoughts of her husband and their combined children and everything else but him. Draco saw his chance in the attendance of the Ministry's Valentine's Day gala. Refusing for over a decade to go to the ridiculous affairs, he bravely, and smartly, dressed for the ball and arrived early to watch for their entrance. He made his move on the dance floor where Isla was alone and far away from Thom but that did not stop her from running away from his imploring grey eyes and seductive questioning.

His plan had failed. For now. There would be many more opportunities for him to approach Isla and corner her with the truth of their unrequited love. Until then, Draco was stuck with the option of drinking away his pain in the amber liquid of burning Firewhiskey and reminiscing on the easiest ways to earn Isla's heart once and for all.

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><p><strong>September 1st, 2017<strong>

The billowing stacks of smoke and the hustle of the Platform brought fond memories to his mind as Draco steadily walked with Astoria through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, following an eager Scorpius as he pushed a heavy cart with his trunk and belongings for his First year at Hogwarts. They were terribly early, appearing on the platform with a half hour to spare before it left but Scorpius was just as anxious to get to school as Astoria was about her baby leaving for the first extended period of time. One arm wrapped around his wife's shoulders, Draco guided her through the thick crowd of parents and children as their towheaded son went on ahead.

"It's just a few months," he consoled the blonde witch, grey eyes locked on the bright head of his son as he wove through the people. "He'll be fine, love. And back before we know it."

Astoria sniffled, small tears held on the bottom of her eyelashes as she nodded reassuringly, a sad smile pulling at her tight lips.

"I know. It just seems like he's leaving for good every time he boards that train. He's so excited to get away, he - I don't know, he acts like this is his golden ticket to escape us."

Squeezing her upper arm and jerking her against his side, he comforted her out of automatic response. "I was the same way at that age," Draco replied. "Couldn't wait to leave the Manor and see all my friends again." Tilting his shaggy blonde head and puckering his lips to place a gentle kiss to her temple, he continued, "Don't worry about him, love. Scorpius will be just fine."

Still, Astoria twitched with nerves as her blue eyes remained peeled to the eager, young boy as he efficiently loaded his trunk, chattering with similarly sized children in green and silver garb. Scorpius turned his head, glancing around expectantly for his parents as he readied to board the train.

"I'm just going to go -" she started, taking only one step forward before Draco gripped her wrist and pulled her back to his side.

"No. He will come find us."

"But he won't - He'll just get on the train and leave," Astoria whined, her neck rotating as her blue eyes plead with him to let her go to appease her worry.

"No."

She tearfully pouted but remained next to his tall frame, arms crossing as she glared at the passing witches and wizards. Draco shoved his hands into the warm pockets of his black trousers, smiling pleasantly and nodding a silent hello to errant persons. He watched as a messy head of inky black hair trotted by and his silver gaze followed the path where the child had come from, only to see Harry and Ginny Potter standing close to their youngest son. Obviously nervous for his first year, the Boy Who Lived knelt stoically in front of his child and quietly addressed him as Ginny held onto a fidgeting, flame haired young girl. Draco glanced away, suddenly feeling awkward for staring at the private moment and pressed a tight lipped smile as a passing man called his name in familiarity but he did not recognize the wizard.

Staring back at the Potters, he noticed Harry was peering at him and Draco forced the corners of his lips up as his dark haired, childhood nemesis politely returned the gesture. Ruffled by a shiver of tension, Draco turned his attention back to his anxious wife only to realize that, unsurprisingly, she had fled his proximity as soon as his focus was diverted. Hastily glancing around, he could not pick out the appropriate blonde head that belonged to Astoria. Jerking forward, Draco casually meandered through the throngs of families as his grey eyes roamed the many faces.

Suddenly seeing the bright spot of a woman bent over another blonde head of a child in the parting of the crowds, he rushed towards the pair. Already mentally berating Astoria for coddling their only child and seeing through her every nagging intuition, Draco stopped short when the witch stood up and straightened, her full height being much more than his wife and her frame far more curvy. The boulder of a weight fell through his stomach and fluttered his heart as Draco suppressed the tremblings that had come to accompany his run-in's with Isla. She was wiping her sapphire eyes of tears, smiling reluctantly as a beautiful young girl tugged at her robes and stared into her mother's face. His chest leaped when Isla leaned forward once more to place a loving kiss on the girl's forehead, wrapping her arms tightly around the smaller witch and holding her for several minutes as children scurried to clamor up the steps onto the Express.

Allowing them a moment, Draco kept his side vision on the blonde pair as he scouted the remaining heads of fathers in search of Thom. _Where are you, you sneaky bastard?_He thought and smirked when he spotted the dark haired wizard holding his young, look-a-like son as they closely examined the front of the train and eagerly talked to the conductor_. He's preoccupied. That leaves Isla for me._

Her daughter had trotted off, leading a levitated trunk that Isla had magicked for her, and the elder blonde witch was left alone, her hands holding her chin up as she woefully watched her oldest child broad the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Draco was still impressed with her beauty and knew her loving spirit matched her outer appearance. He did not particularly want to approach her so publicly and he was rewarded for his worry when Isla abruptly turned and walked away from the smoking train. She was ambling through the assembled families, blonde head bent down as she went and Draco followed her movements several yards through the crowd. They walked parallel towards the back of the platform and he was relieved when he spotted the secluded bench tucked away in a brick alcove that Isla was going for.

Breaching the edge of the crowd, Isla blindly stepped until the seat came into her immediate vision and she sat down soundly. Draco watched from behind a stone pillar, his shoulders leaping forward to rush to comfort her as she softly wept into open palms, his feet remaining rooted as she cried for her anxious heart. Unable to endure his own suffering at her mounting sadness, Draco swept forward and easily strode to eat up the distance until he was noiselessly sitting next to Isla.

She jumped, startled at the sudden intrusion of her personal space, and was ready to chastise the stranger for their rudeness when her blue eyes widened and she realized it was Draco who had cornered her. Mouth agape, honey eyebrows raising higher, and tears instantly stopped, Isla automatically leaned backwards to put a greater distance between their bodies. Before she could say anything, Draco tilted his torso to her angled frame and one hand reached up to softly wipe away the wet tracks of her tears with the pad of his thumb. His grey eyes narrowed with concern and searched her face, blinking to clear the thick fog that had enveloped his thoughts and focused his vision on Isla.

"What are you doing here?" She asked breathily, her gaze dancing between his silver orbs as if he were a mirage waiting to disappear.

"I'm dropping my son off for school," Draco evenly replied. "What are_ you_ doing here?"

"What do you think, Draco?" Isla smartly responded. "I don't just come to random benches in train stations to sit and cry by myself."

Smirking fondly at the biting spark that he had always loved about her, Draco let her stare as his aristocratically handsome face was laid open for her to see his honesty.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he admitted when their gazes had not broken and Isla's eyes widened at his statement. "I saw you - And I couldn't stay away."

Isla forced her vision away, staring into the thinning crowd as a fresh wave of tearful emotions threatened to break her silence. His words were everything she had always hoped he would say when they were finally able to speak, many years between then and their last meeting. But instead of the triumphant and arrogant feelings she expected, Isla was pulled even more strongly to the blonde wizard, his voice echoing in her thoughts as he waited patiently for her to say something. An anxious chill ran up her spine and she allowed his large hand to stay in place when it warmly covered her bouncing knee.

"I love you, Isla. I always have and I always will," Draco declared and his grip squeezed her thigh, earning a stiffening inhale from her as she pressed her eyes shut to keep the heady emotions at bay.

"Please say something," he begged after several long, silent minutes. His grey eyes had fallen, a frown marring his features as he scooted closer to Isla, hoping for her to hear the rapid, anxious beating of his heart that pulsed only for her.

"I can't," she finally said, jerking from his electrifying grasp and jumping up from the stone bench. "I can't do this, Draco. Not again."

"What? Can't do what?" He implored, bolting to his feet as one leg lifted for her to run away. One hand flung out and Draco grabbed Isla's elbow as she made to leave.

Pausing, her back to him as she trembled lightly, she roughly whispered, "Us. I couldn't stand to loose you again. I can't endure that pain again."

Draco's shoulder slumped, his chest caving in with a heavy guilt at the admission of heartache still weighing on her.

"That was a mistake," he deadpanned, his voice forcibly level to keep the tremor of anger from his words. "I have regretted it every day since. Without you, my life is meaningless and lacking the excitement of a loving marriage and relationship. I need you, Isla."

Turning around halfway so he could see the blotchy, tear stained surface of her face, Isla falsely smiled and shook her blonde head.

"No, Draco. You don't need me. You need the woman who took care of and loved you when you were most vulnerable. And I don't think I'm that woman anymore."

Her words hung with sadness and Draco was startled by the level of honest certainty in her voice. He was parting his sensual lips, inhaling in preparation of a response when a melodic, high pitched voice yelled at them.

"Mother! Mother!" Isabella called, running across the platform to Isla's blonde head excitedly. "I'm leaving! I'm really going to Hogwarts!"

Both of them surprised at the girl's sudden appearance, Draco glanced past the women as Isabella vaulted against Isla's frame and wrapped her arms tightly around her midsection, searching for and haltingly finding Thom as the dark haired wizard stopped short upon seeing whom his wife had been conversing with privately. Nodding politely, Draco saw the other man's green eyes narrow imperceptively as he glanced sideways to Isla and Isabella hugging ferociously. Suddenly uncomfortable, he cleared his throat to get her attention and eagerly gazed at Isla when she threw a look at him over her shoulder.

"I should be going. We **will **speak about this again. Soon."

Without responding, Isla turned back to her daughter and tightly smiled. "I'll miss you, belle. Write me once a week. I don't want to hear of those excuses about too much school work, they don't overload you until at least your third year."

Isabella giggled lightly, pressing her cheek against her mother's chest one last time before she pulled back and said, "I love you too, momma. The holidays will be here before long."

Isla laughed easily, garnering Draco's precise attention as he watched the exchange from behind the pair, his chest tightening pleasurably at the throaty noise.

"I should be the one telling you that," Isla teasingly admonished. Sniffling slightly in the indication that she would soon start crying again, a hand fluttered over the outline of Isabella's blonde head and Isla took hold of the young girl's shoulders, bending at the waist so Draco could finally see the snowy top of her daughter's head past the ridge of her back. "I love you, belle. I'll miss you every day."

"Come on, Isabella!" Thom called from his position across the platform. "You'll miss the train!"

Both women glanced to the waiting man and Draco was about to edge past the pair when Isla threw him a sharp glare and he retreated to stand behind her once more. Isabella attempted to move around her mother again to get a better look at the man she had been talking to but Isla stepped forward and wrapped her arm strategically around her head and shoulders so the girl had to turn and walk with her moving strides. Curious though to see what her mother was trying to hide from her, Isabella shrugged off the heavy arm and twirled quickly to stand next to the taller woman.

Draco was intrigued by his long lost love's young daughter and tilted his shaggy blonde head to the side as she rotated her similarly shaded head to blink at him. If Draco thought he had seen everything in the wizarding world that could possibly shock him, he was being proved wrong.

Staring back at his chiseled face from her position next to a squirming Isla, under a head of neatly placed, white blonde curls, were his own, shocking grey eyes. Fleeting thoughts ran through his confused but anxious head - _She never miscarried... She's been lying all these years... - _and Draco squeezed his eyes shut before opening them widely, somewhat hoping he had been mistaken but ultimately relieved when he knew he wasn't. Isabella was the living reminder of Draco and Isla's love - her ancestry hidden because of her mother's own misguided protection of the torch she would always carry for the blonde wizard, a testament to the overwhelming power of their love.

**.**

**.**

**A/N:**

**Wow. That's the end. Thank you for reading and please please PLEASE leave a review, I want to see who has been reading since the beginning and what you think of how this story has wrapped up. **

**If you do not like the ending and think it's too much of a cliff-hanger, well I have good news. There **_**will **_**be a sequel. Look for the first chapter by Thanksgiving at the earliest. **

**Until then... **


	21. Music Playlist

"**Trapped in Time" music playlist **

**Some songs will coincide with various chapters. If there is a song title that matches a chapter title, that particular tune was added specifically for that chapter. The music will follow the themes of the story as best as possible and the entire playlist should be listened to while reading, if possible. The full playlist can be listened to at "www dot playlist dot com/user/56114277" **

* * *

><p>"Winter Song" – Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson<p>

"Are You That Somebody" – Aaliyah and Timbaland

"The Mess I Made" – Parachute

"Between The Lines" – Sara Bareilles

"Love The Way You Lie – Part II" – Rihanna and Eminem

"What's My Name" – Rihanna and Drake

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams" – Green Day

"Without You" – David Guetta and Usher

"Thinking of You" – Katy Perry

"Hold My Heart" – Sara Bareilles

"Better in Time" – Leona Lewis

"Mad" – Ne-Yo

"Fix You" – Coldplay

"She Will Be Loved" – Maroon 5

"Never Say Never" – The Fray

"Find Your Love" – Drake

"She is Love" – Parachute

"Fall For You" – Secondhand Serenade

"California King Bed" – Rihanna

"Sexy Love" – Ne-Yo

"So Close" - Jon McLaughlin

"Moment 4 Life" – Nicki Minaj and Drake

"We Found Love" – Rihanna and Calvin Harris

"Give Me Everything" - Pitbull and Ne-Yo

"You Found Me" - The Fray

"Mirror" - Lil Wayne and Bruno Mars

"He Won't Go" – Adele

"Burn" - Usher

"Forever and Always (piano version)" – Taylor Swift

"Broken" – Lifehouse

"Wish You Were Here" – Avril Lavigne

"What I Did For Love" – Lea Michele

"Wake Up Alone" - Amy Winehouse

"Save Me" – Nicki Minaj

"Somewhere Only We Know" – Glee cast

"Back To Black" – Amy Winehouse

"She Ain't You" – Chris Brown

"My Tears Dry On Their Own" – Amy Winehouse

"The One That Got Away" – Katy Perry


	22. Sequel NOW Started

"**Gravity" – the sequel to this lovely story – is now posted. **

**Here are your three R's:**

**-Read**

**-Review**

**-get Ready for more!**


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